


Tell the World We Finally Got it Alright

by ingberry



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Artist Merlin (Merlin), Christmas, Christmas Festival, Christmas Fluff, Enemies to Lovers, Ensemble Cast, Families of Choice, Festivals, M/M, Rivalry, Small Towns, Starting Over
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-23
Updated: 2020-12-23
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:29:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 31,770
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27827545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ingberry/pseuds/ingberry
Summary: It’s the most beautiful time of the year and Merlin can’t wait to open his regular stall at the Ealdor Christmas Festival for weeks of handmade cards, wreaths, ice skating, not so secret Secret Santas, and cozy evenings with friends and family. But when newcomers Morgana and Arthur mistakenly intrude on his territory, Merlin isn’t sure he can embrace the season and overcome bad first impressions.Yet December in Ealdor brings its own kind of magic that doesn’t care for petty rivalries.
Relationships: Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Comments: 53
Kudos: 158
Collections: Merlin Holidays 2020





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Glayvas](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Glayvas/gifts).



> Dear Glayvas,  
> It has been a joy to write a gift for you and I hope you enjoy it! I picked two prompts and unceremoniously smashed them together: Christmas festival and enemies to lovers. Enter Merlin who sells his hand-painted Christmas cards at Ealdor Christmas Festival and his instant dislike of newcomer Arthur Pendragon. Wishing you a happy holidays and a happy new year! 
> 
> Thank you to my little helper elves who have been given special nicknames for the occasion:  
> Brainstorming elves: Zesty Advent and Ivy O. Bells  
> Beta elves: Merry Jingle and Angel Mittens
> 
> Thank you to the mod team! ♥

A loud squeal was all Merlin heard before he was nearly bowled over on the steps coming out of Avalon Bakery and Café. He held his cup out to one side in an attempt to save it while he wrapped one arm around the bouncing form clinging to him. His face was buried in a knitted scarf that smelled faintly of floral perfume. Smiling, he squeezed her tighter for a moment. 

“Tell me everything!” Elena said, bracketing his face in her hands. 

Merlin laughed. “About what?”

“Everything that’s happened to you since last year. Spare no detail whatsoever. I want to know everything.”

“I text you weekly, Elena, I think you know it all already.” 

“Don’t be rude,” she said, patting his cheek before she let him go. 

“You know nothing’s happened. Mum is good, work is good, Will and Freya are great. Gwen is—you know.”

They walked down the steps side by side and Merlin took a careful sip of his hot coffee. 

“And I notice none of that says anything about you, which is what I specifically asked for.” 

“Because nothing ever happens to me.”

Elena shot him a quelling look. “Stop.”

“Stop, what? Telling the truth?” 

“Being dramatic and self-deprecating.” 

“I’m afraid that’s ingrained in me and is my instinctual response to almost anything.” 

“At least you’re self-aware,” Elena said, brightly, and patted his arm over his coat. “But don’t think you’ll get out of catching up. Your place tonight?” 

“Of course,” he said, because it was tradition.

“Is Gwaine here yet?” she asked as they turned towards the main square. 

“I haven’t seen him, but he’s supposed to come in this afternoon so if he’s not already here, he’s right around the corner.” 

The usual calm of Ealdor’s high street had been broken by the beginnings of the annual Christmas festival. Every December, the square and its surrounding streets filled with fairy lights, stalls, Christmas trees, an ice rink, a Christmas tree maze, cocoa stands and tourists from all over. 

The Ealdor Christmas festival was a long tradition that he, Gwen, Elyan, Will and Freya had grown up with, spending every December as long as they could remember among the stalls. Merlin had started working the festival when he was only fourteen, and had kept his own stall since he turned eighteen. 

Merlin couldn’t suppress a smile while they wound their way through the people who were already there setting up, moving up towards their usual spot near the ice rink. A familiar, bubbly excitement returned at the thought of setting up his stall again, nestled between Elena and Mithian’s and the coffee stand. Elena grabbed his hand and pulled him along.

Mithian was setting up when they got there, her hair falling into her face as she moved products from an open box to a nearby shelf. She blew the hair out of her face and Merlin watched Elena’s expression go soft. He coughed and Mithian looked up in surprise, breaking into a wide smile. 

“Merlin!” She leaned over the counter and pulled him into a warm hug. “Missed you terribly.” 

Elena and Mithian lived in London, coming to Ealdor every December to participate in the festival like they had for the past five years. He hadn’t seen them since their wedding in the summer, and he sank into the embrace, enjoying being close to them again.

“Missed you too, Mith.” He peered over her shoulder before he let go. “What have you brought this year?” 

She picked a white jar from the closest box and twisted off the lid. “I have a new moisturizer.” She held it out for him to smell and he inhaled deeply. It had a wonderful woodsy, earthy scent. Sandalwood, maybe? Pine? Calming, but not overwhelming. “The other one I have is very fresh and citrusy, so I wanted something richer.”

“It smells amazing,” he said. “Keep one aside for me?”

“Take this,” she said, thrusting it into his hands and shushing his protests. “I have a cologne in this scent too if you end up liking it. And Elena has these adorable crochet ornaments this year I think they’re buried at the bottom, though.” 

“Well, I’ll be right next door,” Merlin said, putting the lid back on the moisturizer. “I’ll pop by later. And many other times. Planning to overstay my welcome, as usual.”

Mithian grimaced. “Actually, I think you should talk to Gwen about that.”

Elena grabbed the sleeve of his coat and pointed to the stall in Merlin’s spot. For a moment, he didn’t know what he was looking at. There was an entirely different stall in his place. He snapped his mouth shut, momentarily speechless. 

“Oh, shoot, where is Gwen?” Mithian leaned over the counter and peered down the street. “I’m not sure what happened, but she was looking for you to explain.” 

Just as Merlin moved towards the stall that wasn’t his, someone came out of the door on the side and ran right into him. Merlin let out a surprised _oof_ when the edge of the box the guy was holding rammed into his stomach. 

“Oh, fuck,” a deep voice said and Merlin looked up into an unfairly pretty face. His blond hair stood in odd directions as if he’d run his hands through it too many times, and there was a hectic flush on his chiselled cheeks. 

Pressing a hand to his stomach, Merlin frowned at him. Wasn’t he even going to apologise for running right into him with pointy-edged boxes? The stupidly attractive ones were always arseholes. 

“This is my spot,” Merlin said, vaguely realising his mother would probably accuse him of being dramatic. Still, though. This had been his place for over a decade. 

The guy cocked an eyebrow in the most infuriatingly arrogant way Merlin had ever seen. “Didn’t see your name on it.”

“My name’s been on it for a literal decade. I’m always here.”

The guy shrugged. “Yeah, well, we’ve set our stall up, so it doesn’t make any sense for us to take it down again.”

Merlin looked helplessly at Mithian and Elena who were both grimacing at the exchange. Elena mouthed _be nice_ at him, but Merlin didn’t want to be nice. He hadn’t seen Elena and Mithian in a year, and wanted to share quiet moments with them during the day, he wanted to sit in their respective stalls with the door open and chat before the festival opened for the day. He wanted to close up together and head to Avalon after. 

“I’m always here,” Merlin said again, helplessly. “I’m always next to Mithian and Elena.” He realised this was, objectively, not as good of an argument as _I already have my stall up and taking it down would be a lot of work_. 

The guy gave him a wide-eyed stare and looked over at Mithian and Elena. “I don’t know what to tell you.” He didn’t even apologise for it. 

“Merlin!” Gwen called, her hand coming to rest on his back. “I’ve been looking for you.” She looked between them, worrying at her lower lip. “There’s been a mix up with the stalls, I’m sorry. Arthur and Morgana have already set up now, so I asked Will to put yours across the road.” 

He turned around and saw an open spot right across from them. In the stall next to him was another newcomer that he didn’t even know and he had no buffer between himself and the ice rink. He looked at Gwen and she must have seen the desperation in his eyes because she grimaced and shot a brief look at Elena and Mithian. 

“I’m sorry,” she said and was about to say something else before she changed her mind and pursed her lips. 

“Well, if we’re done here?” Arthur said, glancing around at them.

Merlin just stared at him, mouth slightly agape. 

“Uh, sure, yeah,” Gwen said. “You’re good.” 

Arthur stepped around him without as much as a glance and headed down the street. After a stunned second, Merlin threw his arms out and shook his head at Gwen. 

“You gave my spot to that arsehole?”

“I didn’t give him anything. There was a mix up!” Gwen gave a helpless shrug. “And I don’t think he’s an arsehole, really.”

“He rammed into me and didn’t even apologise. He also didn’t even seem a little bit sorry about the mix up.”

Gwen’s fingers tightened around the folder she was holding. “I’m sure he’s just busy with setting up.”

“He did seem a bit rude,” Mithian said. 

Merlin’s eyes narrowed at Gwen. “Why are you defending him?”

She avoided his gaze, her hand coming up to rub at her shoulder. “I might have invited Arthur and Morgana.” She grimaced. “To your place. Tonight.”

“Are you fucking kidding me.”

“I thought they were nice!” she said. “They were nice to me! Plus, we shouldn’t exclude people.”

“Right, so you want me to invite Gaius to my place tonight too? He has a stall. Also that old lady over there seems to be taking part as well. Want me to invite her too?”

“That’s ridiculous, Merlin,” she said. “You know what I mean, and you can’t possibly avoid talking to two perfectly nice people just because you didn’t get your way.”

Merlin clamped his mouth shut. His cheeks burned and he fought the impulse to press his hands against them.

“Alright,” he said, haltingly. He gestured vaguely behind him. “I should get my stall set up, probably. Next to the ice rink. That’s a thing that’s happening.”

Gwen’s face was a bit stricken. 

“See you guys later,” Merlin said, and Mithian gave him a sad little wave. 

“We’ll come over and help you in a bit,” Elena said. “If you still need it.”

“Perfect.” He gave a small smile. “If not, I’ll see you all at mine. At 8!” He waved and stepped over the road, towards his new spot tucked against the ice rink, across the road from his friends.

*

“Gwaine’s here!” Elena called from the hallway and a cheer rose from the living room. 

Merlin smiled to himself as he tipped another packet of crisps into a large bowl. It was dark outside, and inside his cottage candles were lit and the muted sounds of Christmas music and indistinguishable chatter came from his crowded living room. The first night of the festival preparations was his favourite. All of them gathered under his roof again catching up after a year apart, huddled together on his couch in front of his fireplace. 

He stepped to the side to make more of the Christmas sangria he’d found on Pinterest. It was deliciously cinnamon-y in a way that should be sickening, but it worked somehow. He pulled down an empty pitcher and filled it with oranges, cranberries and cinnamon. 

The red wine nearly spilled everywhere when an arm gripped him from behind and Gwaine placed a wet kiss on his cheek. 

“Hi, sweetcheeks.” 

Merlin laughed, turned around and hugged him tightly, swaying from side to side. “Missed you, honeypoo.”

“You better have,” Gwaine said, leaning his hip against the kitchen counter. 

“How’s New York?” 

“Exhausting. Kind of dirty. Overall great.” Gwaine grinned. 

“Wow, that’s high praises from you. Are you staying?”

Gwaine turned more serious, catching Merlin off guard by the quick switch in tone. “You know, I might, actually. It’s big enough to catch my interest, which is something.”

Merlin patted him on the arm. “And it only took one of the biggest cities in the world.” 

“I probably should have tried it sooner.” 

“As long as you’re happy now.” Merlin filled a cocktail glass from the pitcher and held it out. “Sangria?” 

As Gwaine accepted the drink, there was another knock on the door and moments later Elena’s voice rang through the cottage. “Arthur and Morgana are here!”

Merlin groaned, making Gwaine’s eyebrows raise in question. 

“Bastard stole my spot.” Merlin wiped his hands on the kitchen towel he’d slung over his shoulder. 

“Oof, he did that? I noticed you were set up right next to the ice rink like a sucker.”

“It’s extremely the worst, Gwaine.”

“It really is. Imagine the screams of delight piercing your ears every day.”

“You’re the only one who gets it,” Merlin said. He was going for levity, but it ended up a bit too sincere. 

“Do you want me to torture him for you?” 

“Yes, please,” Merlin said just as he heard Elena say, “Merlin’s in the kitchen.”

He and Gwaine turned to see Elena ushering two people into the small kitchen. She met Merlin’s eyes and looked suitably apologetic about being the harbinger of doom. Gwaine, however, sent Merlin a disbelieving look. He could understand why. Morgana was as strikingly gorgeous as her rude boyfriend or husband or whatever he was. Long, black, shiny hair framed a pale face with rosy lips and absurdly blue eyes. 

“Merlin?” She said, her voice deep and rich. 

“Oh yeah, that’s me,” he said, holding his hand out. “I’m Merlin.”

“Morgana,” she said. “I wanted to apologise for the mix up earlier. We really didn’t mean to set up in your space. It was a huge misunderstanding and Arthur is a feral animal who can’t talk to people.”

Arthur’s expression pinched and he glared daggers at her. Merlin had to bite his lip to not burst out laughing. 

“Thank you, Morgana.” 

“Gift for the host,” she said and held out a bottle of red wine. 

“Thank you.” He gestured to the pitcher. “Sangria?” 

“Oh, yes, please.” 

Gwaine pushed away from the counter. “I better see what Will is up to. See you in a bit, Sweetums.” He swatted at Merlin’s ass when he passed and Arthur’s eyes widened. Great. Not just an arsehole but a homophobic arsehole too? 

Merlin poured two glasses of sangria and handed one to each of them. He didn't even have to force himself to smile. Morgana was much nicer than he’d feared. “Welcome to Ealdor.”

“Your house is adorable.” Morgana sipped the sangria and made a pleased _mmm_ sound. “Like a postcard. Or a very atmospheric Christmas movie.”

“Thanks,” he said, poured himself a glass and grabbed the bowl of crisps. “Let’s join the others?” 

He led them into the living room and quickly moved away from Arthur whose quiet looming was unsettling him. The sofa was full. Mithian, Gwen, Gwaine and Elyan sat pressed together, Gwaine with his arm around Elyan’s shoulders, and Gwen’s legs draped over his lap. Elena sat on the arm of the couch, talking to Freya who was in the chair next to her. Will sat on the floor in front of the fireplace. It left a chair free, and Merlin gestured for Morgana to take it before dropping down next to Will. Arthur hovered awkwardly before finally sitting down on the floor next to the sofa.

The heat of the fire warmed Merlin’s back while he let his eyes sweep across the room, trying to commit the scene to memory like he did every year so he could bring it out like a glowing, fragile thing when days were grey and slow. 

When he zoned back into the conversation Gwaine was telling loud stories from New York, embellishing them in ways that were entirely familiar and eliciting eyerolls around the room even as everyone was laughing. 

“I don’t know if even New York is big enough to hold you, Gwaine,” Will said to another round of laughter. 

“The world was never prepared for me, Will, babe.”

“Truer words have never been spoken.” 

The topic changed again and Merlin noticed that Morgana had fallen into an easy conversation with Gwen, but Arthur looked uncomfortable and out of place. Merlin felt a perverse pleasure in that, but when Arthur peered down into his lap where his hands were folded, he felt just a tiny bit bad.

*

It was always Gwen who hung back and helped him clean up after everyone had left. He had almost expected that she wouldn’t, considering this morning. Which was stupid. It wasn’t even a fight, but it was closer to being a fight than he could ever remember having with Gwen. She did hang back, though, picking bottles off the table and into a large plastic bag. 

His chest felt warm, and not just because he was pleasantly buzzed. He put the empty bowl back down on the nearby table and stepped up to her, wrapping her in a hug. She let out a surprised huff and dropped the plastic bag onto the floor. 

“Love you,” he said, because he was a sentimental drunk. 

“I’m sorry about earlier,” she said, leaning her head against his shoulder. “I know the stall means a lot to you and I shouldn’t have diminished your feelings.”

“It’s alright,” he said into her hair. “I was being a bit dramatic, and I’m sorry about that too. But full disclosure: I’ll probably stay dramatic.”

“I expect nothing less.”

Merlin hummed and released her. “And you inviting them here has nothing to do with the fact that they’re unbearably attractive?”

Gwen’s cheeks flushed and she shook her head too vehemently. “I’m being nice.”

“Mmhm. I bet you want to show them just how nice you can be.”

“I’m a nice person, Merlin! I know that might be hard for you to comprehend.”

He laughed and she batted him away, annoyed. After Lance, part of him had thought she’d stay a slightly dimmer version of herself forever. But some of the light was returning behind her eyes and he’d do anything to keep it there.

*

The next day was the last day of preparation before the festival opened for real. Stalls lined each side of the street that opened up into the square where the ice rink took most of the space. At the other end, the Christmas tree maze was being finished right across from the café. The weather was dry and chilly, and Merlin’s fingers were stiff with cold as he unboxed his products. 

He had his mother’s wreaths stacked on the shelves and in the back, and hung them on hooks so they could be easily seen from the outside. He smiled, knowing how much care went into each and every one. She used pine cones from the woods behind her house and greenery and flowers from her own garden to create whimsical, lovely wreaths. He placed his two favourites on the counter on display. 

Then, he stacked his own hand-painted Christmas cards, each one unique. He spent the whole year painting them. Robins, snowy fields, stars, Christmas trees, cabins with windows lit from within, red cheeks and mittens. Any holiday motif he could think of. For his own satisfaction, he also painted more abstract cards, inspired by the colours of the northern lights or the feeling of a warm cup of coffee. They didn’t sell as well, but they were his favourite to paint. 

When he’d made it about halfway into his stock, he brushed hair out of his forehead and grabbed his gloves. He headed across the street to Elena and Mithian’s stall and leaned against the counter, watching them stack products on the shelves. 

“I’m going for a coffee run. Want anything?” 

“Yes, please!” Elena shot him a smile over her shoulder. “Cappuccino for me, thank you!”

“Flat white, please” Mithian said. “You should ask Morgana and Arthur.”

Merlin sighed. Why were people so intent on having him interact with them? 

“You know,” Mithian said, a bit strained as she bent over to pick more moisturizers out from an open box. “You’re usually one of the first ones here to make people feel welcome. My first year, you were unbelievably nice to me and helped me with absolutely anything I needed.”

“This is unfair.”

“Is it?”

“You’re complimenting me and also using my own virtues against me when I want to keep being petty.”

“Am I?” she said, blinking innocently at him. 

Merlin rolled his eyes and ignored Elena’s tinkling laugh, forcing himself to move over to Arthur and Morgana’s stall. He knocked on the wall to announce his presence and they both looked up from stocking their shelves. 

“I’m going on a coffee run to the café. Do you want anything?”

“No, thank you,” Arthur said, a bit stiffly, but Morgana swatted him on the arm. 

“Yes, thank you, Merlin. You’re very kind. Black, a little milk, a bit of sugar. Arthur will have the same.” 

Merlin heard Morgana whisper, “Honestly, what is _wrong_ with you?” as he walked away and it almost made Arthur being a prickly bastard worth it. 

He returned with a coffee tray about fifteen minutes later and dropped by Elena and Mithian first, making them promise to have dinner with him later. Then he turned to drop off the coffee for Morgana and Arthur and to his horror found Arthur alone in the stall. 

“Here’s the coffee,” he said, pushing the tray onto the counter and taking out his own coffee. 

To one side of the counter was a box of Christmas cards. Merlin reached out and flipped through a couple, scrunching his nose up a bit when he realised they were some generic mass-produced variety. Ugh, he was such a snob, but what was the point of selling something people could buy anywhere anyway? This was exactly what he’d expect Arthur to be selling.

He clearly hadn’t managed to keep the dislike off his face because Arthur pressed his hands onto the counter and said, “Is there anything wrong with the cards?”

“Uh, no,” Merlin lied. “They’re very nice. Look expensive.”

“We thought cards might be good, just because it’s a Christmas festival and all. They’re not the main thing, though.” 

“What’s the main thing?” Merlin asked, sipping carefully from his coffee. 

“Jewellery.” 

Merlin raised an eyebrow in surprise and his eyes followed Arthur’s vague gesture at a stand Merlin hadn’t noticed where here was a collection of necklaces hung at different heights. They were surprisingly delicate, many of them simple in a way Merlin liked. 

“Oh, those are very nice,” Merlin said. “How do you get them so lightweight? Are they made of gold?”

“Uh,” Arthur said. “I think so? I’m not sure.”

It was unbelievable how hard Arthur made it to be nice to him. Merlin tried to remind himself what Mithian had said, and she was right, he did usually try to be nice and welcoming, but _dear god_. 

“Right,” Merlin said, taking a few steps backwards. “Enjoy the coffee. See you around, then.”

Returning to his own stall, he continued setting up, getting all of his cards up in their displays. He hung up some fairy lights, some holly in between the card displays and a couple of candles that smelled of Christmas baked goods. 

When he was about to finish up for the day, he suddenly found Arthur standing on the other side of the counter. Behind him, Morgana was looking in their direction with her hands on her hips. 

“Did Morgana force you to come talk to me?” he asked, amused despite himself. 

Arthur buried his hands into the pockets of his jacket. “She very much did, yes.” His cheeks were red from the chill in the air. 

Next door to Morgana, Elena and MIthian were watching the exchange from the safety of their stall. “They’re relentless.”

“The necklaces are gold,” Arthur said. “Or silver. Real gold and silver. Some of them are rose gold, too.”

“Ah. Did you finally remember?”

“In the spirit of honesty, I should say that I asked Morgana.”

“Well, I’m impressed you went to that effort.” 

Arthur reached out and touched one of the wreaths on display. “Christmas wreaths. A classic, those. Original and inspired choice. Very rustic.” 

Merlin looked at him in slight disbelief. If that wasn’t the most back-handed compliment he’d ever received, he didn’t even know. 

“Those are my mother’s wreaths.”

Arthur’s eyes widened and he coughed awkwardly. “Ah. And you also brought in some Christmas cards to supplement.”

“I paint them myself.”

“Of course you do,” Arthur said, his voice flat. “I think I’m just going to head back.” 

“I think that’s a good idea.”

Arthur turned around and Morgana must have seen something in his face, because she threw her hands up in frustration. 

*

The festival opened the next evening. It was cloudless and chilly and above them the stars twinkled brightly. Busloads of visitors were milling in the streets, moving towards the stage set up near the Christmas tree maze for the occasion. Merlin was winding his way through the crowd looking for anyone familiar. He’d been running late, nearly tripping down the steep stairs at the cottage in his haste to make it out the door in time. 

Just as Gwen walked across the stage, Merlin found Elena, Mithian and Elyan near the edge of the crowd. He stepped up to them, pulling his knitted hat lower to cover his cold ears. Too late, he noticed that Morgana and Arthur were also there, chatting easily with the others. Merlin immediately felt more awkward and hated it. 

“Hi,” he said, and received a chorus of greetings in return. 

Merlin slipped an arm around Elyan’s waist. “I didn’t get to talk to you much yesterday. How are you?”

“Glad to be here for a while,” Elyan said, slinging an arm over him in return. “I think I’m going to stay over the holidays this year.”

They both watched Gwen at the front of the stage and nothing more needed to be said about why. Gwen’s first Christmas since Lance left was bound to be a struggle. She looked beaming now, though, speaking confidently into the mic to welcome everyone to the annual Ealdor Christmas Festival. Applause muted by gloves and mittens rang through the area and Merlin tipped his head back, watching the stars.

Will and Freya took the stage next with Freya’s guitar and their sweet, soft harmonies. Their voices fit together perfectly, like everything else about them, and the song felt like the warmth of a roaring fireplace in the cold evening. 

“We better go open our stalls,” Merlin said as their first song ended. 

They all walked together up the street towards the ice rink. Merlin was at the back with Elena and Mithian, surprised at seeing Arthur talk quite easily with Elyan. He even thought he saw Arthur smile. And yeah, Arthur turned his head to say something to Elyan; he was definitely smiling. Grinning, even. Merlin frowned, but was distracted by Elena talking about the book she’d just finished reading. 

Elyan broke off first since his metal work stall was about halfway up the street. The rest of them trudged up to the ice rink and Merlin walked to the opposite side of the street to get ready for the opening rush. When _Winter Wonderland_ started playing at the rink, Merlin leaned out of his stall, seeing the crowd begin to make their way up the street. 

“Elaine!” he said, warmly, to his first customer. “Lovely to see you back.”

*

“Thank you,” Merlin said as Sophia set their coffees in front of them. A minute later she was back with the carrot cake. 

Merlin took a careful sip while Gwen dipped the spoon into her cake. He was still cold since today had been windy, and even in the stall he’d felt the chill seep in under his layers. He wrapped his hands around the cup, enjoying the way it was just slightly too against his skin. 

“I think we should include Morgana and Arthur in the Secret Santa this year,” Gwen said, watching him closely. 

Merlin groaned, but he’d expected nothing less. “If that’s what you want.”

“We can’t exclude them. They’ve already become part of the group. It’d be weird.”

Had they? Merlin knew he’d seen Arthur hanging out in Elena and Mithian’s today, but he’d been too busy at that moment to give it much thought. 

“You don’t have to ask me for permission,” he said. God, was he really such a troll that people felt the need to tip-toe around him? 

“I know that. I just feel a bit bad that you don’t like them.”

“I don’t _not_ like them.” 

Gwen’s lips quirked. “A ringing endorsement.”

“Well, come on. Arthur doesn’t even know what he’s selling. I asked him about it and he had no clue. They have _mass-produced_ Christmas cards.” 

“Stop,” she admonished, but she looked like she was holding back laughter. 

“You brought them up!” 

“I’m sorry. I take it back.”

“I heard Elyan might be staying for the holidays,” he said. 

Gwen’s face broke into a beaming smile. “Yes! He told me he was going to stay past New Year’s before going back.”

“Maybe you can join me and Mum for dinner on Christmas Eve?”

“That’d be really lovely. I can bring mince pies.”

“Oh, you know I won’t say no to that.” 

Gwen asked him about the day at the market and Merlin relayed all the boring details of the day, which had been busy. They were in the middle of a discussion on pricing when Gwen looked up past his shoulder and her face lit up. His sentence dwindled to a stop and he turned to see Morgana making her way towards them, cup in hand. Gwen scooted to the side in their booth, making room. 

“Hi,” Morgana said, her cheeks rosy red from the wind outside. Her hair was still impossibly silky which Merlin resented, because his was a constant mess. “It’s cold out there today!” 

“Join us,” Gwen said, as if her instantly moving to the side hadn’t been invitation enough. 

Morgana slipped into the booth next to Gwen giving her a thankful smile. She took off her black leather gloves and stretched her fingers. 

“How was your first full day?” Gwen asked, pulling her cake over to her new spot. Then she blushed. “Want some?” 

“No, keep your cake! The day’s been great, actually. I’ve enjoyed it a lot,” Morgana said. “Busier than I thought, at times, but at least I have Arthur to help me even if he has no idea what he’s doing, poor lamb.”

Gwen laughed, inclining her head. “Is he that bad?”

Morgana rolled her eyes, but her soft smile belied her. “He’s always that bad.” 

“How long have you been together?” Merlin asked, dipping the spoon into his own piece of cake and savouring the first bite. 

Morgana and Gwen both turned to him, a strange expression on their faces. What had he said now? He seemed to be able to say nothing right to Morgana or Arthur, which was a pretty new and uncomfortable feeling for him. He wasn’t usually this socially inept. 

“Since birth,” Morgana said, raising her eyebrows. 

“Uh.” Merlin opened his mouth and closed it again. “Arranged marriage?”

Gwen and Morgana burst into loud laughter, turning heads from some of the other guests. Morgana threw her head back, before sinking forwards onto the table, her hair falling over her shoulders. 

“Oh god, Merlin. I’m afraid to ask what I’ve done to give that impression.”

Merlin pressed his lips together, thinking back on his impression of Morgana and Arthur. “I’m sorry, I just assumed. Usually when people have stalls together, it’s a couple. And you’re both—” He waved his hand at her face as if that was an explanation. 

“He’s my _brother_ , Merlin.”

“Oh fuck!” Merlin clamped his hands to his burning cheeks. “Oh my god. I’m so _sorry_!”

Morgana was delighted. “I can’t wait to tell Arthur!” 

“Please don’t. He already hates me enough as it is.” He covered his face entirely, fighting the urge to scream his embarrassment into his hands. 

She huffed. “He doesn’t hate you. He’s just extremely awful at first impressions. And second impressions. Sometimes third, even.” She brought the cup up to her lips. “Besides, he’s here because I asked him to and it wasn’t exactly his main plan for December, to say the least.”

“So the jewellery is yours,” Merlin said. 

She nodded. “And the knives.”

“There are knives too?”

She brushed her hair back over her shoulder. “I have diverse interests.” 

“Wow, get you a girl who can do both,” Gwen said, eyebrows raised, and the goofy look on her face made Merlin laugh. 

“At least this explains why Arthur didn’t have a single clue when I was asking about the necklaces.”

“Oh, yeah, he has absolutely no idea. He’s here to carry boxes and look pretty.”

Merlin did a one-armed shrug. “Eh, 1 out of 2 isn’t bad.”

Morgana and Gwen shared a look and turned to shake their heads at him, and really, who was he even kidding? 

*

Merlin had a pounding headache. 

The ice rink had been at its busiest so far and the combined sounds of Christmas songs on loop and delighted screaming was driving him slightly mad. Not only was he right up against the rink, but he seemed to be closer to the speakers on this end. 

He’d promised himself to stop complaining about it to the others, because he needed to get over it, but he couldn’t quite stop fixating on it. He missed having Elena and Mithian next door, for many reasons, but especially because one of them would sometimes jump over and keep the stall for him for a bit while he took a break. He hadn’t had a single break all day and he was ready to murder. 

He peered across the street and saw a steady crowd at Morgana’s stall. His was at a lull for the moment, so he re-arranged the cards to display some new ones. The worst part was that people were definitely buying cards from Morgana and Arthur and that was fine. It was stupid to be mad about that. If they wanted to sell mass produced cards and people wanted to buy them, it was fine.

It was _fine_. 

Merlin suddenly yearned for the day to just end. He had to go to Gwen’s for the start of the Secret Santa exchange, though, and at the moment that seemed like a herculean feat. 

A fresh round of customers saved him from drowning horribly in his own self-pity. 

*

A hum of chatter sounded from inside the house as Merlin closed the front door behind him and toed off his shoes. He was late, having fallen asleep on his bed after his shower, and he was fairly sure everyone was already here waiting for him. There wasn’t even any room in the hallway for his coat, so he slung it into the corner. 

“Fucking finally!” Will said when Merlin stepped into the crowded living room. 

Gwen’s living room was smaller than his (but the kitchen was bigger) and it always felt cramped, but Merlin had forgotten quite how much. He stepped between outstretched feet on the floor and searched for an available space. 

“I’m sorry!” he said, holding his hands up. “I fell asleep.” 

“Poor baby. You tired?” Elena patted his cheek as he walked past her. 

He found an available spot on the floor below the chair Freya was curled up in and made himself comfortable, accepting the beer Gwen held out to him. 

“Yeah, it’s been a day. Let’s not talk about it. Let’s just start.” 

“So it’s finally time!” Gwen announced, voice bright. “You know the rules: whoever you pick out of the bowl is a secret assignment.” Someone snorted. “Yes, I said _secret_ , Gwaine.”

“Hey, don’t pretend I’m the only one with a big mouth here.”

“You have the biggest one, though,” Elyan said and nudged his leg. 

“Ok, I’m choosing to take that as a compliment from you, Ely.”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

“Alright,” Gwen spoke over them. “Secret. That goes for all of you, not just Gwaine. Even though it especially goes for Gwaine.”

“Look, it was one time and I sent Elena a very anonymous text asking what she’d like.”

“I have your number, Gwaine!” 

“So, secret,” Gwen continued. “Also, no more than fifteen pounds.” Someone snorted again. “Yes, I said _fifteen pounds_ , Merlin.”

“Fair,” he said, resting his arms on his bent knees. 

Morgana cocked her head to the side. “What I’m getting from this is that there are no rules, really.”

“There _are_ rules,” Gwen insisted. 

“We break them,” Freya whispered, and there was scattered laughter.

“Just pick, then,” Gwen said, holding the bowl out to Gwaine, who was sitting closest. He looked at it and waggled his eyebrows in reaction. 

She walked around the room, letting everyone pick a piece of paper. When everyone had picked a piece, she had everyone close their eyes as she asked if anyone had picked themselves. Some shuffling happened and a few seconds later, everyone could open their eyes. 

Freya leaned over in the chair to get a look at his piece of paper, but he held it close, which was good, because she’d see her own name if she caught a glimpse. 

“Hey, Freya is cheating,” he called out and Gwen rolled her eyes. 

“Does everyone remember who they got? Put your paper back, we don’t want any _accidental_ reveals.” 

Merlin looked over at Arthur who was leaning back on his hands on the floor. He was relieved he hadn’t received him as the assignment, although it might have been a fun challenge. Also, he could’ve given him the exact opposite of what he’d want. For fun. One of his mum’s wreaths, maybe. 

The evening veered away from the Secret Santa exchange, conversations turning in other directions. Merlin was still tired, and he found himself resting his head against the armrest of Freya’s chair. Her fingers ran through his hair while she talked to Gwen, and Merlin struggled not to fall asleep in the comfortable buzz of voices around him. 

He forced his eyes open and his gaze landed on Arthur, talking to Mithian with a wide smile on his face. His face looked like it belonged to someone else. It was open and relaxed in a way Merlin hadn’t seen before, and he didn’t much like it. Suddenly, Arthur threw his head back in laughter, so similar to the way Morgana did that Merlin couldn’t believe he hadn’t realised they were related. The laughter on his face made Arthur look… bright.

It was terrible.

Because what Merlin was starting to consider was that Arthur was only an arsehole to him, and that was even worse than Arthur just being a general arsehole.

*

Merlin could see his mum through the window in the kitchen before he walked up to the house. It was early enough in the morning to still be quite dark outside. He stopped for a moment, watching her reach up into a cupboard to bring down a cup and a plate. 

“Hi, mum!” he called as he stepped into the hallway, closing the door behind him. The house smelled of nutmeg and cinnamon. 

Hunith came out of the kitchen with her hair piled on top of her head in a messy bun and an apron covered in flour. 

“Good morning, love,” she said, patting his cheek. “I have the wreaths upstairs. Let me just run up and get them.” 

As she ran up the stairs, she called, “Hope you’ve been having fun with the festival!” 

“Always,” he yelled back. 

She came back down the stairs carrying a large box of new wreaths. 

“Except I’m not next to Elena and Mithian this year, so breaks are harder to come by.”

“If you need me to step in for a bit, you know you can just call me.”

“It’s fine, you don’t need to do that, Mum.”

“You know I don’t mind,” she said. 

“I’ll see if I can get them to cover for me today. If not, I’ll call you.”

She didn’t seem convinced by that, but let it go. “I was talking to Alice earlier and she said she overheard people raving about your cards.” She beamed at him. “Next year you should include some of your paintings.”

Merlin dug his hands into his pockets, shuffling his weight from one foot to the other. “I don’t think so, Mum. People love Christmas cards, but it’s something else entirely to buy a whole painting.” 

“Not when they’re as beautiful as yours.”

His lips quirked up. “Well, you’re a bit biased.”

“It’s still true.”

Her eyes had gone soft in a way that made him nervous. He leaned down and picked up the wreaths, ready to get out of there, when she put a hand on his arm and bit her lip. Oh god, what was she gearing up to say?

“Merlin, it’s been three years,” she said and his breath caught. “Since Mordred. Won’t you consider it again? Don’t let him ruin it for you forever.” 

He had no idea what to say. They hadn’t talked about Mordred in a long time and he hadn’t thought anything was left unsaid. He was happy working as an art teacher at the school. He didn’t need anything else. 

“I don’t know,” he just said, unmoored by the sadness in her eyes. 

“Ok,” she said, patting his arm. “Wait here.”

He stood in the hallway, looking around confused as if he was seeing the room for the first time. He was happy now. It’d taken a long time, but he was. 

Hunith reappeared with a basket of cinnamon rolls. “Please share with everyone.”

“Did you get up at dawn to bake cinnamon rolls for everyone?” 

She waved her hand dismissively. “I had other things to do as well.”

“We don’t deserve you.” Merlin leaned in and kissed her cheek.

Laughing, she pushed him towards the door. “Have a good day, Merlin!”

*

Merlin felt like a baked goods Father Christmas when he stopped by all his friends’ stalls on his way up the street. Gwaine leaned over the counter, planted a wet kiss on his cheek and warned him that he would most likely marry Hunith. Elyan took three, and Mithian let out such a pornographic moan that Elena started blushing. Arthur asked if they were poisoned. 

“Why don’t you try it and find out?” Merlin said with a mock-innocent smile. 

“Well, at least I’ll have witnesses,” Arthur said before he bit into one and tried extremely hard not to show how much he enjoyed it. 

The rest of the day passed much as yesterday, except Merlin used his communication skills and asked Mithian if she could cover for him so he could actually take a bathroom break. 

In the afternoon, some of his students noticed him on their way to the rink. He waved, feeling warmed by the way their faces lit up even as they tried to hide it. The four of them sauntered towards him and he could barely contain his laughter at how hard they tried to seem uninterested. 

“Hello, Mr. Emrys,” Charlie Price said, hands buried deep in his pockets. 

“Hi, Charlie, good to see you!” Merlin leaned onto the counter. “Is the school standing without me?”

“Yes, but Mrs. Williams made us do potato prints all week. Like we’re seven!” 

“Hey, you can make a lot of good things with potato prints. Don’t knock the potatoes.” 

Emily Owens scrunched her nose. “They make my hands smell.” 

Merlin laughed. “I promise I’ll never make you touch a potato again.”

“Thank god,” she said. “Will you be back before the holidays?”

“No, I’m afraid I won’t be back until January,” he said, apologetic. “I could slip Mrs. Williams some hints about what she could be doing instead of potato prints, though.”

“She tried to teach us knitting but Angela got tangled in the yarn, so I think that’s why she decided we’re good for nothing but potatoes,” Charlie said. 

Merlin narrowed his eyes. “I already taught you how to knit.”

The four of them shared looks and began to laugh. “We forgot?” Emily tried. 

“Sure,” Merlin said, nodding sagely. “Seems to me like you got the potatoes you deserved.”

“Harsh, Mr. Emrys.”

He grinned at them and was about to keep needling them when he noticed that Morgana had ducked out of the stall and Arthur was manning it alone. He looked back at them, an idea forming. 

“Hey, guys,” he said. “I’ll give you ten pounds to go bother that guy over there.”

They followed Merlin’s nod, their eyes landing on Arthur talking to an older woman eyeing the jewellery. 

“Bother him, how?” Charlie asked. 

“Ask him lots of questions. Also, be rude about the Christmas cards he has on the counter. You have a lot of experience being annoying, I’m sure you can handle it.”

“Ok, _rude_ ,” Emily said. “We’ll do it, though.”

He slipped her a ten pound note and watched the four of them moving in a pack towards Arthur’s stall. The old woman had left, and there was no one else there when the group reached him. Merlin had to hold his hand in front of his mouth to hide his amusement, watching Arthur’s face grow increasingly frustrated. When he saw Emily pick up a Christmas card as if it smelled of her dreaded potatoes, he had to drop down below the counter to laugh. 

When the group finally left Arthur alone and headed onto the ice rink, Merlin met Arthur’s eyes across the street and gave him his most innocent smile. 

*

Friday night, Merlin had people over at the cottage again. Will and Freya had taken the drive up to see Freya’s family and couldn’t join, but the rest slowly filled Merlin’s living room with the lively sound of chatter. Merlin ended up standing in the door to the kitchen just watching them talk, his heart full at the sight of them in his home. He watched them for an embarrassingly long time before joining them, sitting on the armrest of the chair Gwen was in. 

The evening passed in easy conversation until they’d all had a bit too much to drink and Gwaine announced they were playing “never have I ever” as if they were a group of uni students. 

“Never have I ever,” he said over loud groans of protest, “kissed someone in this room.”

“You know you’re supposed to say something you actually haven’t done, right?” Merlin said flatly while everyone except Morgana and Arthur sipped their drink. 

“I don’t think I can think of a single thing I haven’t done.”

“Your mum,” Elyan said. “Hopefully.”

Gwen wrinkled her nose. “That’s so gross, Elyan.”

“Are we just going to skim over the fact that everyone here has kissed each other?” Morgana asked, eyebrows raised. 

“Well, not each other. Just someone here,” Elena said. “Potentially multiple someones. Gotta pass the time somehow!”

Arthur nudged Morgana. “I knew we should’ve never come here.” 

“Never have I ever,” Elyan said as Morgana laughed, “stolen someone else’s stall-space at the festival.”

“Fuck you,” Morgana said before she wrapped her lips around the bottle of beer and tipped her head back. “Hey, you better believe you’ll drink, Arthur. I’m not taking the fall for that alone.”

“Yeah, drink up, Arthur.” Merlin’s eyes narrowed. 

“Never have I ever,” Arthur said, “moaned for a week because someone stole my stall-space at the festival.”

Merlin held Arthur’s gaze, throwing back a gulp of beer. 

“Alright, fucking enough of that,” Mithian said with a frustrated roll of her eyes. “Never have I ever regifted a Christmas gift.”

Merlin took a sheepish sip of his beer, as did Morgana and Arthur. Elena eventually caved, and Mithian threw her a look. 

“It better not be one of mine!”

“Of course not, sweetie,” Elena said, blowing her a kiss. “I keep all your gifts.”

“I haven’t seen the cat figurine in literally three years.”

“What?” Elena said, feigning confusion. 

Gwen tucked one leg under the other and sat up straighter. “Never have I ever been drunk at work.”

“Does hungover count?” Merlin asked while a couple of the others drank. 

“No, definitely not the same.”

“Even if I was so hungover I might as well have been drunk?”

Gwen just smiled at him and swatted at his knee. In return, he mussed up her hair and she yelped, batting his hand away. 

“Never have I ever,” Merlin said, hearing himself trip over the words a little. He must be drunker than he thought. “Had a threesome.”

Gwaine took a big, unapologetic gulp that surprised no one, but then the rest also followed one by one until only he and Arthur were left. Gwen desperately tried to hide her teeny, tiny little sip. 

“Uh, _excuse me_ ,” Merlin said, sharing a disbelieving look with Arthur. “In some weird twist, Arthur and I are the only ones here who aren’t _depraved_?”

“Seems so,” Mithian said smoothly. 

“Honestly, I am offended,” Gwaine said loudly. “That you all would hide your depravity from me, your dear friend Gwaine.” His gaze flicked between Arthur and Merlin’s. “If you two want to fix this problem, I’m at your service.”

“Thanks,” Arthur said, voice flat. “But no thanks. Additional thanks to Merlin for blessing me with the knowledge that my sister has had a threesome.”

“Don’t even,” Elyan said weakly, sinking lower in his chair. 

“Please someone, for the love of God, pick another one.” Gwen’s face was red and she pushed her bottle of beer against her cheek. 

“Never have I ever,” Elena said, “escaped out the window of someone’s bedroom completely naked.” 

“I hate you.” Merlin took a sip, ignoring the odd swirl of discomfort in his stomach. Elena’s eyes suddenly went wide when she remembered said window had been Mordred’s. “It’s fine, El.”

God, this was turning out to be exactly the shitshow Never Have I Ever always promised to be. 

“Never have I ever,” Gwaine started to say, but was interrupted by a yelp and Elena apologising profusely. She had tipped the remaining contents of her red wine onto Arthur’s stomach, drenching his shirt. 

“Oh no,” she said, voice small. “I’m so sorry!”

“Ah, shit. Uhm. It’s fine, Elena. Don’t worry about it,” Arthur said, a bit strained as he pushed himself off the sofa. “I’ll just—” He waved his hand upwards and headed to the stairs. 

“He’ll have to wash that out, or it’ll stain,” Gwen said to him, tipping her head upwards in a quick nod.

Merlin sighed, realising that he should probably be the good host. He put his beer aside and followed Arthur upstairs while the conversation resumed in the living room. 

Arthur was broader than him, especially in the shoulders, so Merlin wasn’t sure he had anything that would fit him. Especially not a t-shirt. Maybe a sweater, since Merlin usually liked those baggy anyway. He ducked into his bedroom and rifled through his closet, looking for something that looked like it might not be too tight. There was a quite large, black knitted sweater that might work, but then there was—He grinned. 

“Yeah,” Arthur answered when Merlin knocked on the bathroom door. 

Inside, Arthur was rinsing his t-shirt in the sink, and was it really hot in here or was Merlin imagining things? The broad expanse of Arthur’s naked back was impossible to avoid as Merlin stepped inside the bathroom that suddenly felt absurdly small. 

“I’m not sure drowning it in the sink will do the trick,” Merlin said. “I can put stain remover on it and put it in the machine, maybe. I think that might be the best bet. I’ve also read something about salt, but stain remover is supposed to remove stains, so that seems like a solid choice.”

Arthur turned towards him, and hello, there was Arthur’s broad chest. There was a bit of dark chest hair over tanned skin that Merlin had the absurd urge to run his fingers through. That was a frankly unacceptable thought. 

Merlin had also been happier not knowing Arthur had a smattering of freckles dusted across his shoulders. 

“Yeah, maybe the machine is better,” Arthur said with a sheepish shrug. “I didn’t really know what to do except dump it in the sink.”

“Alright, let’s see, the stain remover is under the sink, let me just—” He ducked down and nudged Arthur out of the way, grabbing it from the cabinet below. “Where’s the stain?”

They drained the water from the sink and Merlin leaned in to find the right spot without thinking about how close that brought him to Arthur’s bare skin. When he inhaled, it was the faint scent of Arthur’s cologne. He pulled himself together, added stain remover to the shirt, and threw it in the machine. 

“I would ask if you had anything for me to wear, but that’s not going to end well for me in any sense,” Arthur said, mouth pulled into a grimace. “Considering you’re shaped like a pole.”

“Well, going downstairs shirtless to a party where Gwaine is a participant is also not going to end well for you.”

“So, the lesser of two evils, then.”

“I did in fact find you something.”

Merlin ducked back out and hurried back into his bedroom, grabbing the sweater from the bed. He pressed his lips together and took two deep breaths through the nose to keep himself from breaking before he went back into the bathroom. 

“Here you go,” Merlin said. “It’s the only sweater I have that I think would fit you around the shoulders. Speaking of pole.”

Arthur took it from him as if it was about to explode and when he held it out in front of him, Merlin had to bite his lip to stop himself from laughing. 

“I’m not dressing like a Christmas elf.”

“Mmm,” Merlin hummed, barely keeping it together. “I’m afraid this is all I have to offer.”

Arthur looked up as if searching for strength and then pulled the sweater on with some difficulty. It was too tight for him, clinging to his shoulders, his arms and his chest. He looked like a Christmas elf on steroids and Merlin bit back a whimpered laugh. 

“You look _great_.”

“You know,” Arthur said, voice low and vaguely threatening. “I will get you back when you least expect it.”

“Of course. I expect nothing less.”

The living room burst into wild, helpless laughter when Arthur descended the stairs. 

*

The room was cold when Merlin woke cocooned in his bed. It was still dark outside. Bleary-eyed, he fumbled for his phone only to find out it was 5 A.M. He fell back onto the pillow, burying himself into the bedding, revelling in the heat he could stay in for another few hours. A fading imprint of a dream lingered. He closed his eyes, immediately slipping back into a half-sleep. He didn’t have time to truly notice that he saw a fleeting image of freckles before he fell back asleep. 

*

On Sunday, they kept the Christmas tree maze open for the festival staff after the festival had closed for the evening. They all huddled by the opening, clinging together in groups, while Gwen let them in a few at a time. It was cold enough that their breaths hung in the air when they exhaled and Merlin had pulled out his warmest mittens when he left the cottage. 

“We should do boys against girls,” Elena said. “See who gets there first! Mithian, Morgana and I against you guys” She addressed Merlin, Elyan, Gwaine and Arthur with a swipe of her hand. “I know you’re one more, but I think you’ll need it, honestly.”

“Gwaine will mostly be a liability anyway,” Elyan said and braced himself for Gwaine’s retaliation. 

Instead, Gwaine shrugged with a half-smile. “We all know that’s true, so I’m gonna let it slide.”

“Alright, deal,” Merlin said. “First group to find the end wins.”

“So, does that mean everyone has to make it there, or just the first person getting there?”

“I say first full team,” Morgana said.

“Well, that definitely makes Gwaine a liability.”

“Hey, I’ll show you liability.”

“So, what do we win?” Arthur asked as the group ahead of them was let into the maze. 

“Coffee?” Mithian suggested. “The losers get to bring the winners to the café afterwards?”

“Perfect,” Merlin said. “I could go for some gingerbread cheesecake.”

Gwen let them into the maze where the trees were decorated with lights in different shapes and colours and Bing Crosby crooned in the background. The first corner of it was blue and white, fairy lights twinkling, and there was a sprinkle of sparkling snow. Merlin smiled, running his hand over a nearby branch. It was an odd mixture of daunting and cosy, walking down the relatively narrow space between the trees on either side. 

Too late, Merlin realised he’d dawdled and everyone else had their eyes set on the competition. He hurried up, slipping around a corner and just saw Arthur’s blond head disappear around the next one. 

“Arthur, wait!” he called, jogging to catch him. 

Arthur turned to him and waited for him to catch up, but when he did, they no longer had eyes on Elyan or Gwaine. 

“Ah, fuck,” Merlin said, speeding up, only to be faced with a fork in the road. 

Arthur stared at each path in turn as if the trees would somehow whisper the right direction at him. “The only good thing about this is that it’s entirely your fault.”

“Shut up, you Great Tit.” 

“Do you have a lot of bird-based insults?” Arthur grabbed his arm and dragged him to the left. Merlin protested loudly only because he didn’t appreciate Arthur being the one taking control.

“I have plenty.” Merlin watched the lights on the trees change to red as they turned another corner. “You Blue-footed Booby.”

“Wow, specific.” Arthur’s grip on his arm turned into a loose grip on his sleeve, guiding them through the maze. “Running out already?” 

“Hush, there’s one called a Sapsucker and I’m trying to wield it to my advantage.”

“You forgot to call me a Loon.”

“I forgot nothing, you… you Common Shag.” 

Merlin walked right into Arthur when he stopped, shaking with badly contained laughter. Pleased, Merlin bit his lips as Arthur turned to look at him. They stood close, Arthur’s hair lit up in red from the fairy lights behind him.

“Is there really a bird called a Common Shag or are you just freestyling?”

“There really is a bird called a Common Shag and you have a lot in common.”

The crisp winter evening had turned Arthur’s cheeks red and the brown suede jacket he wore did great things for his shoulders. Silence stretched between them when their eyes met. The space between them seemed to grow smaller.

“You’re such a crochety arsehole,” Arthur said, voice low. 

Merlin found he could barely force his mouth to move. “Uhm, _likewise_.”

For the briefest of moments, Arthur’s gaze dropped to his lips, and Merlin’s heart stuttered before his pulse raced uncomfortably fast. He drew closer, pulled by something indefinable, and their eyes met again, inevitability passing between them. Merlin’s lips parted on a shaky exhale when Arthur leaned in. 

Footsteps crunching on the gravel nearby made them freeze for a split second and then hastily draw back, not looking at each other. A furious blush made Merlin feel like his face was boiling. 

“How are you still all the way back here?” Gwaine asked when he rounded the corner, arms thrown to either side. “We’ve been waiting for you for like ten minutes!” 

“Arthur—” Merlin said just as Arthur said, “Merlin—”

Gwaine rolled his eyes. “Come on, we’re buying, thanks to you arseholes.”

*

Merlin felt like a vibrating string someone had just plucked. 

The tension that had coiled tight in the moment when he knew Arthur was going to kiss him had never actually released. The moment had sat in his chest through the evening at the café, settled into his gut as he tried to sleep, and now it was an unbearable knot of unreleased nervous energy that made him distracted and fidgety. 

He caught himself looking toward Morgana and Arthur’s stall between customers. Sometimes even when the customers were browsing or paying. A couple of times, Arthur caught him looking, and that was the worst of all. 

Only two hours into the day, Merlin already needed a refill of caffeine and he left the stall unattended for a moment to run over to the stall on the other side. The smell of rich, warm coffee instantly made him feel better when he got in line behind a couple waiting for their order. 

He’d only been in line for a moment when someone came up behind him, standing just too close to be entirely appropriate. Merlin glanced over his shoulder and had his suspicions confirmed. Arthur was very deliberately not looking at him. Merlin turned around as if Arthur wasn’t standing close enough to lean in and kiss the back of his neck if he wanted to. 

How had they even gotten here? Was this where they’d been headed all along?

Merlin felt himself lose the last grip he had on his thoughts and they scattered in every direction, bringing up images of Arthur’s eyes up close, of his broad, naked chest in the bathroom, of his hands wrapped around a cup at the café. 

Of course, he’d found Arthur attractive before because he wasn’t dead. But the moment where he’d known, deep in his bones, that they were about to kiss, had flicked a switch. Arthur wasn’t just attractive in a remote sense, like an unattainable, distant stranger who was an arsehole anyway. He was close, no longer just a bad first impression, and there was a possibility. There was _something_. 

Merlin hadn’t had a something since Mordred. And that was a terrifying thought. 

The confused looking barista had to prompt him twice before Merlin managed to place his order. He waited for it, so uncomfortably aware of the presence behind him. Was Arthur standing this close on purpose, or was Merlin just really on edge? 

Merlin finally got his coffee and turned to leave just when Arthur stepped forwards. They almost collided, but Arthur stepped aside and put one hand on Merlin’s back as he slipped past. The touch was fleeting, barely anything, gone in a second. He felt it there the whole way across the street. 

*

There was a midweek lull at the festival. The weather changed, leaving people to shield themselves against the wind and rain as they moved between the stalls. For the first time, Merlin was truly bored, rearranging the wreaths for what felt like the hundredth time while he waited for people to stop by. 

At one point, he even escaped to Mithian and Elena, discussing TV-shows and book series until there was a small early afternoon rush. He spent the rest of the day freezing in the stall, drinking five cups of coffee to pass the time and keep warm. 

Towards the end of the day, Gwaine showed up with Merlin’s sixth coffee. He leant onto the counter, propping his head up on his hands as Merlin took a long sip. It was hot enough to burn his tongue, but Merlin ignored it, wrapping his gloved hands around the cup. 

“So, who do you have for Secret Santa?” Merlin asked. 

“Oh, Gwen.” Gwaine grimaced. “Which kind of sucks because I feel like I can’t get her a joke gift after the year she’s had, and I don’t do sincere gifts. It makes me break out in hives.”

Merlin hummed. “I don’t know. I think maybe a joke gift would be nice? Maybe not the kind of prank gift you’d give Elyan, but something funny that’d make her smile, you know.”

Gwaine inclined his head. “You might actually be right about that.”

“Have you asked Elyan?”

“He’d definitely tell me not to give his sister a joke gift.”

“Maybe don’t think joke as much as making her feel good?”

“That borders a bit too much on sincere for me, Merlin.” Gwaine gave a lop-sided grin. “Who do you have?”

“Freya. I thought about painting her something, but I think I’ve painted her eight million things, so I definitely need to come up with something else.”

“You could probably paint her eight million more things and she’d still love it, so I think you’re just fine on that front.” 

“I should get her a room to put all my paintings in, clearly.”

“Solid idea, Merlin.” He turned back to glance at Elena and Mithian. “How much do you want to bet those two have each other again? I swear it’s rigged.”

Gwaine suddenly leaned in and put his hand against Merlin’s cheek, his touch cold enough to send unpleasant shivers down his back. Merlin’s lips parted in surprise, eyebrows raised when Gwaine ran his thumb across his cheekbones a couple of times. 

“What on earth are you doing?” 

“Arthur’s watching.” Gwaine grinned widely, sickeningly pleased with himself, drawing his hand back. 

Merlin’s cheeks flushed. “ _Gwaine_.” 

Gwaine laughed, throwing his head back, and Merlin suspected it was at least partly for show. 

“Gwaine, for the love of god.”

“Thank me later.” He winked and turned away, leaving Merlin to drown in his own thoughts. 

Fighting the urge to look up, Merlin busied himself with rearranging his cards. Gwaine was being stupid, and Merlin himself was most definitely being stupid. It was all _extremely stupid_. 

Merlin took a shaky breath and could no longer stop himself from throwing a quick glance at the stall opposite. Arthur wasn’t there. Morgana was leaning forward onto her hands on the counter, her long black hair falling over one shoulder. It was going to be a long week and a half until the end of the festival if this was how it was going to be. He had to get a grip on himself. 

There was a slow trickle of people and Merlin sold only a few more cards. The ice rink remained relentlessly merry in choice of Christmas music, but the few visitors had the rink more or less to themselves throughout the evening. 

When Merlin could finally close up for the day, his fingers were freezing in his gloves and his stomach was vaguely uncomfortable from all the caffeine he’d thrown back throughout the day. He also had _All I Want For Christmas is You_ on loop in his head. He couldn’t wait to get back to the cottage to put the fire on and bury himself in blankets on the sofa, slumbering there until he could drag himself to bed. 

He took one last look around the space before heading out the side door, struggling to fit the keys in the lock. Cursing, he took his gloves off and put them in his pockets to finally get the door locked properly. He turned and stopped, inhaling sharply in surprise. 

“Arthur. Hi.”

“Merlin.”

They were tucked in between Merlin’s stall and the empty ice rink, Arthur looking at him with an unreadable expression, hands pushed into his pockets. Merlin struggled to say more to break the loaded silence that settled between them, but he couldn’t think of a single thing. All he wanted was to bury his face into the crook of Arthur’s neck and inhale his cologne. 

A moment before Arthur moved, Merlin knew with a bone deep certainty that Arthur was going to kiss him. He reacted before Arthur reached him, surging forwards and clinging to Arthur’s upper arms when their lips met in a heated kiss. Groaning, Arthur pushed him back against the door, brushing the knitted hat off Merlin’s head as he buried his fingers in his hair. Merlin dug his hands into the back of Arthur’s jacket, the kiss making him light-headed. Arthur’s lips slanted across his, slight stubble brushed over Merlin’s jaw, and Merlin pressed up into it. 

Arthur pulled back, hands cradling Merlin’s head, and met his eyes. Merlin’s breath caught and Arthur kissed him again, soft and sweet. 

“See you tomorrow,” Arthur said, voice low. 

Merlin watched him go, dazed. His hands shook as he scrambled for his discarded hat, lips still tingling.


	2. Chapter 2

“A cocoa, please,” Merlin said, and added, “and a muffin,” after a moment. His thoughts were sluggish and scattered, still hung up on what had happened yesterday. All day, he’d snuck glances at Arthur across the street, but neither of them had acknowledged the kiss. 

It was almost like it hadn’t even happened, except for the fact that it was burned into his mind.

Avalon was relatively busy for being so late in the evening. It was warmly lit, the cold darkness outside making it feel extra inviting. He’d planned on taking the cocoa to go, but the warmth made him want to stay for a bit before he went home. The cold weather had returned overnight and he was pretty sure it was going to snow soon. 

Grabbing his cup, he heard his name called and turned to find Arthur and Morgana seated in a booth by the window. Morgana was the one waving him over, but Merlin’s eyes drifted to Arthur, stomach flipping. He arched a questioning eyebrow at Arthur who nodded and Merlin was faced with the dilemma of where to sit. He didn’t know if it was worse to sit next to Arthur or be forced to look at his face constantly.

He took too long to decide. Panic built as he hovered by the table and finally made the desperate choice to sit next to Arthur, regretting it almost immediately. Their shoulders brushed. Morgana and Arthur seemed to share some silent communication and the grin that bloomed on her face made Merlin nervous. 

“Hey, Arthur, did you know that Merlin thought we were dating?” She leaned her cheek against her hand.

Arthur turned to look at him in disbelief, his eyes wide with disgust. “What the fuck, Merlin?”

“Ok, so, this is really unfair,” Merlin said, waving his hand frantically. “You _promised_ you wouldn’t tell him.”

“Oh, I never promised. I’ve been sitting on this until just the right moment.”

“Merlin, what the fuck!”

“Ok, hey, hey, hey.” Merlin pressed a hand against his forehead. “In my defence, most people who share stalls are together. It was a normal conclusion to reach! And it’s not like every couple is super affectionate or anything.”

Morgana nodded sagely, lips pressed together to keep from laughing. “I believe you also insinuated we are both attractive.”

“Alright, you need to stop talking,” Merlin said as Arthur just stared in wordless horror. “Also, yes, I did. Because that’s a fact. I assume you have mirrors.”

“I feel it’d be best for me to tell you that I prefer someone with more…” Morgana waved her arms around her chest. “Ample breasts.”

“I’m leaving!” Merlin said, reaching for his coffee, and Morgana reached out to grab his hand, laughing loudly. 

She schooled her face into a more serious expression. “I’m sorry, Merlin. I’ll stop, I promise.” 

“She won’t stop and she’s not sorry,” Arthur said.

“I believe you,” Merlin said, but sat back down anyway. He pushed his plate towards Arthur. “Blueberry muffin?” He batted Morgana’s hand away. “None for you. Muffins are only for nice people.”

“Oh, so you think Arthur is nice now?” she asked brightly. “I seem to remember you saying something very different just a few days ago.”

Well, fuck. He’d walked _right_ into that. 

Arthur broke off a piece of the muffin, smugly eating in front of her. “Maybe Merlin is slowly realising which Pendragon is the true arsehole.”

“You tell yourself that, brother, dear.”

“She makes the jewellery to appeal to the masses,” Arthur said, turning towards him. “The knives are her real passion.”

Morgana grinned. “I mean, that’s true.”

“Do you really need to sell the jewellery? I’m sure the knives sell really well to certain customers?” 

“It doesn’t hurt to diversify and catch a wider net I suppose. This stall is a first try, so I don’t really know what sells better. This is a valuable experience for me.”

“When did you start making knives?” 

“I was a rebellious teenager, you could say. By-product of growing up with Uther Pendragon.” She rolled her eyes. “So I was really into a lot of weird things, which spanned from dabbling in satanism to writing really emo poetry. The knife-making stuck. The satanism, not so much.”

“I beg to differ,” Arthur said drily. 

“If you ask Arthur, I’m Satan.”

“Sure, which makes him a follower of Satan, then, since he’s here.”

“I like him,” Morgana said to Arthur as she pointed at him, the laugh she’d just let out still dancing in her eyes.

“I’m fresh out of ample breasts, though.”

“I _like_ him.”

“Yes, Morgs, we both heard.”

At some point, he must have ended up closer to Arthur. Their thighs brushed when Arthur reached for another piece of the muffin and the smell of his cologne lingered, bringing Merlin back to the feeling of Arthur’s mouth on his. He tried not to follow Arthur with his gaze when Arthur pulled back again and focused on Morgana instead. Arthur’s thigh was still hot against Merlin’s and he did his best to ignore it. 

“Who is Uther?” 

“Our father,” she said, grimacing. “Well of eternal childhood trauma and issues. Real treat of a man!” 

“Morgana,” Arthur said, all teasing gone from his voice. 

“Arthur has spent a lot of time trying to make Uther happy, up until very recently, so he’s on a bit of a journey.”

“Merlin doesn’t want to know this.”

Merlin did. But he also realised Arthur didn’t seem to want him to know this. 

“Why did you decide to join the festival this year?” he hurried to ask instead. 

If his change of topic was abrupt, Morgana seemed to go with it. “Tired of my job. Wanting to try something else. I wanted to see if this was something I enjoyed, and I also just needed to not deal with working in business anymore.”

He turned to Arthur. “What do you do?” 

“We work for the same firm,” Arthur said. “It’s sort of a family affair.”

“I see,” Merlin said, not entirely sure he did. His vague guess was that this had something to do with Uther. 

“What about you, Merlin? What do you do?” Morgana asked. “I don’t think you’ve ever said.”

“I work at the school. I teach art, mostly, but a little English literature as well. I generously get time off every year to do the festival, so it’s perfect, really.”

“I asked Gwen why you don’t sell your paintings anywhere else. But she got all weird about it. Started babbling a lot.”

Merlin dug his thumb into his palm, looking down at his entwined hands. Not knowing what else to do, he looked up at Arthur who was watching him intently. It seemed they both had secrets. This time, Arthur changed the subject.

*

The fire crackled and Merlin was curled up in the corner of the sofa with a blanket wrapped around his legs. He had a steaming cup of tea in one hand and a half-read book open in his lap. Settling in, he fell into the comfortable lull of reading, his mind going blank. The room grew hotter, on the verge of too much, but it was nice after a day out in the cold. 

He was so zoned out that he looked up in confusion when a sound rang out into the house. It was only after a moment of concerted thought that he realised it was the doorbell. Flinging the blanket aside and putting the book down, he got off the sofa and headed out into the hallway. It was colder than the living room and he ran across the floor in the hopes of making it quick. 

He was unable to hide his surprise when he opened the door to find Arthur standing on his front steps, hands buried in his pockets. 

“Hi,” Merlin said, stepping aside. “Come in?” He ushered Arthur inside, closing the door quickly behind him. “It’s fucking cold today.”

Arthur stood in the hallway without making any sign to pull off his coat or take his shoes off. Merlin looked at him, unsure of how to end the weird standstill they’d come to. 

“I’m here to ask advice about the Secret Santa gift,” Arthur finally said, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. 

Relieved that Arthur was angling to stay, Merlin held out his hand for Arthur’s jacket. “Oh, yeah, of course. I’ll help you with that.” 

He led the way into the blessed warmth of the living room and gestured towards the couch. “Tea?”

“Yeah, thanks. That’d be nice.” Arthur sat down on the couch as Merlin headed into the kitchen. 

“So who do you have?” Merlin called from the kitchen, putting the kettle on. 

“Gwaine. I’ve no idea what to get him. I think I know him the least out of everyone? We haven’t really talked.”

“Ah, yeah, that’s a tough one.” Merlin leaned back against the counter, wrapping his arms over his chest. “He’s a bit weird about gifts.”

“I got the feeling he might be.” 

Merlin poured water in a Christmas cup and brought the tin of teas with him into the living room. He handed the cup and the tin to Arthur as he passed and settled back into his corner. He dug the book out from under himself and put it on the floor. 

“The thing with Gwaine is he doesn’t do overly well with very sincere gifts,” Merlin said. “He always goes for the joke gift. Which I realise could be weird when you don’t know him that well. Like, giving a joke gift. But I think that’s your safest bet anyway.”

Arthur groaned. “What kind of joke gift, though? I feel like that could just get painfully cringe.”

“Oh, it could.” Merlin grinned. “Sorry.”

“Do people stick to the limit?”

“About as much as they stick to the secrecy.”

“So not at all then.”

“No, not really.” Merlin wrapped his arms around his bent knees. “You should get Morgana to threaten to stab him with one of her knives. He’d love that.”

“I can’t tell whether you’re joking or not.”

Merlin just waggled his eyebrows in response and Arthur shook his head, sipping carefully at his hot peppermint tea. 

“Would it work if I didn’t give a joke gift, but gave a gift where it’s obvious I’ve put no thought into it?”

“You know, that’s not a half bad idea. I think he’d be like ironically into a weird pair of socks or something.”

“You people are so fucking weird.”

“Uhm, excuse _you_.”

“Don’t even pretend you’re not. You know I’m right.”

“I admit nothing.”

“Who do you have?” Arthur asked, tucking one leg under the other as he turned towards Merlin. 

“That’s a bold question. What if I had you?”

“I’m pretty sure Mithian has me because she keeps asking me weird questions about my coffee preferences.”

“Maybe she just really wants to know how you feel about cold brew?”

“Oh, sure. The most natural conversation starter.”

“I have Freya,” Merlin said, shrugging. “I considered painting her something, but I’ve painted her so many things before, I’m going to try to think of something else this time.”

“I’m sure she’d love it if you painted her something even if she already has some from before.”

Merlin bit his lip, watching Arthur, his hair golden in the light from the fire. 

“You know,” he said, giving a small smile. “When we did the draft for the exchange, I was so worried about getting you.”

“Well, I _am_ hard to please. Morgana says I’m spoiled.”

Merlin snorted. “I don’t even doubt it.”

It was weird how long ago it felt. That moment when he’d been genuinely concerned about buying Arthur a gift. It suddenly seemed like another lifetime, and come to think of it, he couldn’t remember the last time he felt that genuine curl of dislike at the sight of him. It had disappeared almost as abruptly as it had formed.

There was something scary about the fact that his first instinct was no longer the little spike of annoyance. He wasn’t sure if he knew what to do with the void left behind after that feeling, and he felt unmoored by it. 

He slowly realised that they were looking at each other in complete silence. His stomach flipped, suddenly aware of the fact that his feet were tucked under Arthur’s bent knee. Arthur sipped at his tea, breaking eye contact. A moment later, Merlin felt the light touch of Arthur’s hand on his ankle, fingers curled around the back of his leg. 

Merlin’s breath hitched. Oh, god. Arthur’s thumb rubbed small circles on his leg as if this wasn’t new: relaxing together on the sofa in front of the fire, just the two of them. When Merlin snuck a glance at his face, Arthur drank from his tea, looking into the fire. His profile was striking. A sharp jawline, a high forehead and a strong nose. It almost made Merlin want to paint it, and Merlin rarely enjoyed painting people, at least not in any detail. But with Arthur, it was the detail that mattered. The plump of his full lips, the cut of his cheekbones. 

Arthur’s hand fell to the side when Merlin rose from the sofa and he seemed a bit stricken as Merlin moved towards him. His mouth pressed into a line, peering up at Merlin hovering over him. 

“I’m sorry if I—”

Merlin plucked the tea out of his hand and set it aside. His heart beat too fast in his chest when he took a step closer, cupped Arthur’s upturned face into his hands and closed his lips over Arthur’s in a soft kiss that tasted of peppermint. Arthur responded immediately, chasing his lips when he pulled back. Already slightly breathless, Merlin straddled him, one knee on either side, and sank down against him. Arthur’s arms circled his back, pulling him closer, and Merlin pressed into the kiss, greedy and hot all over. 

Arthur’s lips opened under his, a slight brush of their tongues sending goosebumps down his thighs, and Merlin sighed into it, shifting his hips a little as Arthur’s fingers dug into his back. Slipping his tongue into Arthur’s mouth, he ran his thumb along Arthur’s jaw and buried the other hand into his hair. Arthur’s hands slipped down to his hips, gripping him hard, and his pulse rocketed up at the hard press of them. 

The kiss could have lasted two minutes or an hour, Merlin had no idea. He’d lost track of anything that wasn’t the feeling of plush lips moving under his and the solid body under him. Despite his best efforts, a strangled moan escaped his lips, too loud in the quiet room and embarrassment twisted in his gut. Breaking away, he hid his face into Arthur’s neck, inhaling his cologne. Shit, this wasn’t exactly making him any calmer. He’d intended to slow down, but instead he was too tempted to brush his lips against the warm skin over the collar of Arthur’s sweater. 

Holy fuck, it was embarrassing that he couldn’t even control himself. He sucked a faint bruise into Arthur’s skin, just enough to stay red for a little while, and kissed his way up until he mouthed at the stubble on Arthur’s jaw. The rough prickle of it made his stomach swoop and he bit back a needy sound. Fuck, he couldn’t be any more desperate and he didn’t even have it in himself to stop. 

Merlin yelped when he was suddenly tipped to the side, out of Arthur’s lap. He blushed hot and then sighed in relief when Arthur climbing on top of him instead of moving away. Merlin hooked his legs around Arthur’s hips, letting Arthur pin him down into the cushions, catching his lips in a searing kiss. Overwhelmed, Merlin turned his head to the side to breathe, only realising his mistake when Arthur mouthed at the skin below his jaw. Then he found the spot below Merlin’s ear that made his bones turn to liquid. Merlin bit back a strangled moan, fingers digging into Arthur’s back. 

It had become unbearably hot. The fire was blazing, Arthur was trapping him against the couch, and the lips on Merlin’s neck were _doing things_. He was starting to sweat at the nape of his neck and it was just edging on uncomfortable. 

“Mmm,” he hummed, petting at Arthur’s hair. “I really like this, but it’s getting really hot and I was wondering if we could, uh, I don’t know. Slow down? A little?”

He looked up to the ceiling, swallowing heavily against his nerves. It was fine. He could slow things down. It was totally fine. 

Arthur pushed himself up and to the side, pressing against the back of the sofa. He splayed a hand on Merlin’s stomach. 

“Oh, so it’s getting hot, is it?” Arthur said, and oh _fuck_ his voice was low and a little hoarse. 

“Don’t flatter yourself.”

Arthur laughed and Merlin felt it vibrate against his side. Merlin’s pulse was slowing a little and his head felt a little clearer. Unable to help himself, he nuzzled against Arthur’s neck, slowly inhaling the scent of him. For several moments, Arthur just let him hide his face there. He only rubbed his hand over Merlin’s stomach, in soothing little circles. Eventually, Merlin reached up and kissed him lightly.

They traded lazy kisses on the sofa until Arthur had to leave. Merlin walked him out, watched him put his jacket back on and then, after a moment’s hesitation, stepped into his space and kissed him goodbye. 

*

Was this how it was going to be now?

Every time Merlin caught a glance of Arthur throughout the day, his stomach swooped or his pulse picked up or his fingers tingled. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been this wrapped up in someone, struggling to focus on what he was supposed to be doing. Even when Arthur wasn’t around, his thoughts still drifted to the feeling of Arthur pinning him down. 

He pasted a smile on his face and tried to ignore it, keeping his attention on the people coming by the stall. It was, thankfully, a rather busy day. Even the noise from the ice rink helped keep him focused on the festival. Somehow, the day seemed to pass, albeit at a crawl. 

Gwen stopped by in the afternoon to tell him she was inviting everyone to her house for apple pie and red wine, and a little later, Elena entered his stall through the side door, a knitted hat tugged down over her bushy blonde hair. He’d never been so happy to see her. 

“Hey, El,” he said and hugged her, a bit too tightly. “Please sit!” He pulled his stool over for her. 

She narrowed her eyes at him. “Are you ok?”

“I’m fine. Just having a day.” 

“And it’s nothing in particular?”

“I think I just didn’t sleep well.” He hadn’t, to be fair. He’d gotten himself off thinking about Arthur’s mouth and fallen asleep for only a couple of hours before he woke again, staring up at the ceiling, too wired to fall back to sleep. 

Elena hummed, sounding less than convinced. 

“There’s something I’ve been meaning to talk to you about,” she said, a nervous lilt to her voice. “I was going to talk to you about it last year but I lost my nerve completely. Maybe now’s a bad time.”

Merlin’s stomach clenched. Fuck. He was already feeling weird and exposed, and he wasn’t sure if he was mentally prepared for whatever this was. 

“No, it’s fine, you can tell me,” he lied. 

She pressed her mitten against her mouth, looking at him with wide eyes, before she seemed to make up her mind. 

“Are you happy here? Like, really, truly happy? I know you like the kids. But ever since…” She faltered and took a deep breath, looking him right in the eyes. “Since Mordred. It seems a bit like the festival is the only thing you look forward to. When you can hang out with us. And you can run your stall. But, Merlin, I want you to be happy all year. Not two and half weeks in December.”

This was worse than he thought. It was so much worse than he thought. This was some existentialist shit. The most existentialist shit he didn’t even allow himself to think about before going to sleep at night, and now he was just confronted with it, out in the open. Spoken out loud, in a way that made it so much more real and his chest tightened in discomfort. 

When he didn’t answer immediately, Elena pressed her lips together and looked down into her lap. “Maybe you can move to London. You and Gwen? Now that she no longer has Lance to think about.”

“I’m not moving to London.” 

Elena’s voice was quieter when she said, “I mean, you don’t have to. Of course, you don’t have to. But if you wanted to, we’d be there. We’d help you get settled.”

“I have my mum here. My house.” He forced a smile. “And I’ve never wanted to live in a big city, El. I’ve just never.”

“Yeah, of course.” She reached out her hand and put it on his arm. “It’s not—”

They were interrupted by a customer and Merlin tried to stay calm as he chatted to the woman about his cards, helping her pick out a few. After her followed another couple of people and it took a little while before they were alone again. 

“I shouldn’t have thrown this on you now,” she said, mouth set in a grim line. “But I didn’t want to say it drunk either. What I mean to say is I support you no matter what you do, but I hope you haven’t given up on your dreams or stopped making plans.”

He didn’t know what to say to that at all. He had no idea. 

“You can’t let that shit-goblin take and take from you,” she said. She took his hand between hers, clad in knitted mittens. “I love you a lot, ok?”

“Love you too,” he said. 

“Are we good?” she asked, getting up from her seat. 

“Of course we are. We’re always good.”

She smiled. “I’ll see you tonight at Gwen’s?”

“See you,” he said and watched her close the door behind her. 

He had to sit down, his nerves feeling raw and exposed. 

People sometimes said he shouldn’t “let Mordred win.” It was essentially what Elena had said too. He always hated that, because what did that even mean? If someone wronged and betrayed you, it sometimes seemed like people expected you to take that as some sort of challenge to rise from the ashes and become a better version of yourself. If Merlin was just living his life, being fine with what he had, was he really letting Mordred win? 

If he no longer wanted what Mordred had pulled out from under him, that had to be fine. Just because he once wanted something, didn’t mean he had to want it again. It was fine to have new goals. 

He didn’t have any new goals and he hadn’t had any in a long time. He was a bit stuck, and he knew that. It didn’t mean Mordred had won, it just meant Merlin needed to figure stuff out. 

A fresh rush of people stopped by the stall and Merlin forced himself to be a functional human being.

*

He was early to Gwen’s this time, because sitting at home doing nothing had proved to be impossible. She was in the kitchen just taking a pie out of the oven and he knocked on the door frame. 

Gwen looked up and turned, oven mitts still on her hands. “Hi!” Taking a few steps towards him, she leaned in and kissed his cheek. 

“This smells _amazing_.” 

“It does, doesn’t it? I have another one going in.” 

He sat down by her kitchen table, leaning his elbows against it. “I feel like I haven’t seen you in days.” 

“I’ve been really busy,” she said, putting the second pie in. Standing back up, she pushed her hair out of her face.

“I can’t remember you being this busy last year?”

She picked out two wine glasses from her cupboard and poured a bit too much red wine into each. 

“Here,” she said, holding one out to him. 

When was the last time he was this ready for a glass of wine? He took a big sip, leaning back in the chair. 

“Maybe you need an assistant,” Merlin said as she sat down on the other side of the table. 

“I have an assistant. And it’s fine! I have a lot to do, but I like it.” 

“Elena suggested we move to London. You and me.” It slipped out of him before he could think it through.

Gwen’s expression froze in surprise. “Well, I would lie if I said I hadn’t considered it.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, of course. Since Lance and I divorced a part of me wonders what’s left for me here. Certainly not the life I’d planned on living.”

It stung, hearing her say it. What was left for her here? Ealdor had always been Merlin’s home and he’d never truly considered leaving it. He’d never had the urge to live in the city, or move abroad. He enjoyed travelling, to see the world for a bit, and then come back home to his life. Trying to picture Gwen not being in that life was impossible. 

“I don’t think I can move to London,” Merlin said, staring into his wine before bringing it to his lips. 

“Honestly, honey, I don’t think it’s for you.”

She knew him. That was the worst part of all. 

“And what do you expect me to do if you leave?”

She smiled, a bit sad. “Call me a lot?”

“ _Ugh._.”

“You’re saying this as if I’ve decided to leave, which I haven’t, so maybe let’s not go there until it actually becomes an issue.”

“Could you leave this face?” he asked, making his eyes large and his bottom lip quiver. 

Gwen hid her face behind her hands, refusing to look at him. “Stop!” 

“Look at this face, Gwen.”

“I refuse to look at it. It’s a trap!”

Just as the timer went off, the front door opened and voices spilled in from the hallway. Gwen got up to take the pie out of the oven and Merlin brought his wine into the living room to find Elena, Mithian, Arthur and Morgana already there. Unbidden, his eyes found Arthur’s immediately and he wanted nothing more than to push everyone else out the nearest window. 

Merlin’s day had been a _day_. The only thing that could possibly make it bearable was if he could lose himself in Arthur’s kisses. 

“Gwen has wine in the kitchen,” he said, nodding in the general direction. 

Elena gave him a hesitant smile as she passed and he returned it in the effort to make it seem like she hadn’t sent his head spinning in a million directions. 

He’d hoped all the girls would go into the kitchen for wine so he could pull Arthur in for a quick kiss, but Mithian dropped into a nearby armchair. He tried not to seem too obvious when he brushed past Arthur and took a seat at the end of Gwen’s sofa, nipping at his wine while he waited for Arthur to take the hint. 

“Bring me a glass, Morgana?” Arthur called into the kitchen. 

“Get it yourself!” she yelled back and he rolled his eyes. 

Merlin glanced up at him and finally, Arthur took the seat next to him, their thighs pressed together. This might have been the worst idea Merlin had ever had. He buried his face into his wine glass to stop himself from grabbing Arthur by the neck and pulling him in. He nearly choked on it when Arthur’s hand brushed the inside of his thigh, fleeting but deliberate. 

Morgana did bring Arthur a glass of wine before settling down next to him. Soon, the living room became crowded when Will and Freya arrived, followed by Gwaine and Elyan. Slices of Gwen’s pie were handed out and there was enough wine to settle everyone into a comfortable buzz. 

As the conversation moved around him, apple pie warmed his stomach and the wine made his shoulders relax, Merlin finally felt some of the stress of the day melt away. He leaned into the armrest, listening to Will and Gwaine bicker about their fantasy football league. It turned into a heated discussion before they both suddenly agreed that Elyan was definitely cheating somehow because there was no way he should be leading. 

“Arthur, you should join the league,” Will said, and then the three of them were off, discussing the merits of different centre-backs. 

When Merlin thought they might be finished, they just moved onto the full-backs, and Merlin didn’t even pretend to pay attention after the first few minutes. Instead, he had Elena send him another piece of pie and started in on it. 

It was late in the evening when Arthur got up and headed up the stairs. They’d all switched places several times, and Merlin had ended up in conversation with Gwen, Morgana and Freya at the other end of the room. He tuned back into the conversation, forcing himself to wait at least a couple of minutes before he followed. 

Trying to act natural, he set his wine aside and attempted to slip out of the room more or less unnoticed. He moved upstairs, the conversation fading away as he reached the hallway and stopped outside the bathroom. Merlin took a deep breath and knocked softly, peering around just to be safe. 

“Just a moment!”

“It’s me,” Merlin said in a lowered voice. 

The door was pulled open and Arthur stood there, wiping his hands on a towel, looking impossibly soft and adorable in his red sweater. Merlin wanted to bury his face in it. 

He closed the door and locked it behind him. 

“Won’t they notice we’re gone?” Arthur said.

“Maybe.” Merlin stepped into Arthur’s space and slipped his arms around Arthur’s waist. 

Their lips met in a deep, languid kiss that made tension curl in his stomach. He didn’t care if anyone noticed at this point. All he wanted was for Arthur to keep kissing him, all hungry and soft-lipped and broad-shouldered. Arthur held him closer, and Merlin felt enveloped by him, sinking into the space made for him. He slanted his lips across Arthur’s, opening up into it, his tongue caressing Arthur’s in a slow glide. 

The kiss turned more desperate. There was an edge to it that hadn’t been there yesterday night on the couch, something that lit a fire in his gut. Arthur’s hand twisted into his hair and Merlin sucked in a breath, his mouth slack as Arthur’s lips dragged from his mouth to his jaw, sucking at the sensitive skin. His hands clenched into the sweater, goosebumps breaking out on his arms. Tilting his head slightly, Merlin bit his bottom lip when Arthur placed kisses along his neck and then, suddenly, bit down lightly near the frantic beating of his pulse. A badly muffled moan slipped out of him and he felt his cheeks burn even while Arthur sucked at the same spot. 

Merlin slid his hands along the waist of Arthur’s jeans, pushing them up under his sweater, fingers splaying over the warm skin beneath. Arthur’s stomach was soft under his fingers where he let them run through the trail of hair. Merlin caught Arthur’s lips again, the kiss slightly off-centre. His thumb dipped under the waistband of Arthur’s boxers. Fuck, he wanted—

He hesitated and pulled back, just barely. Their lips still brushed, breaths mingling, Merlin’s hand hovering over the button, suspended in a silent question. Arthur’s lips skipped along his when he nodded before he crashed their lips together so fast their teeth nearly collided. Merlin fumbled with the button, fingers shaking, until he managed to pop it open and slide the zipper down. 

Slack jawed and overwhelmed, he palmed the outline of Arthur’s cock through his boxers, shivering in response when Arthur let out a shuddering breath. He couldn’t remember the last time he wanted anyone this much. He felt, just a little, like he might die if he didn’t get to have this. 

He slid to his knees, too embarrassed to look up at Arthur as he did. He pulled Arthur’s jeans down and leaned in before he lost his nerve, mouthing at his cock through the fabric. Arthur gave a strangled groan, one hand coming to cradle the back of Merlin’s head, fingers slipping into his hair. Merlin’s cock hardened in his jeans, pushing uncomfortably against the zipper. 

With shaking hands, he pulled the boxers down Arthur’s hips. It had been long enough that Merlin had quite forgotten how much he loved sucking dick. He dug his hands into Arthur’s hips, tried to steady his breath, and slid Arthur’s cock between his lips. Arthur exhaled loudly, hand tightening in Merlin’s hair, and Merlin savoured the slow glide over his tongue. 

It was only then he risked looking up at Arthur. His eyes were pressed closed and lips parted, jaw slack. Merlin pulled his mouth away almost entirely, until he only had the tip between his lips, his tongue flicking at the underside of it. Arthur’s eyes flew open, their gazes meet, and Merlin groaned helplessly, pressing a hand to his erection.

“Christ, look at you,” Arthur said, voice low and so hot Merlin wanted him to just keep talking, forever. 

He closed his eyes and sank down again, getting into a rhythm, letting Arthur’s cock slide over his tongue. Arthur’s fingers fluttered against the back of his head, and Merlin hollowed his cheeks, a wet, obscene sound ringing out into the bathroom. 

“ _Fuck_ , yeah.” Arthur’s hand moved to Merlin’s jaw, his thumb touching the corner of Merlin’s mouth. 

Merlin gripped the base of Arthur’s cock as he bobbed his head, jaw beginning to ache. It had been too long since he’d done this, and he could feel it, but he was almost embarrassed by how much he enjoyed the taste and feel of it. 

“God, Merlin, I’m gonna—“ Arthur choked on the words, grunting in pleasure. 

Merlin took him deep, closing his eyes, and Arthur swore, hips bucking when he came over Merlin’s tongue. Breathing hard, Merlin swallowed as best he could, pressing his wrist to the side of his mouth while he pulled away. His heart was rabbiting away in his chest and he sat back, finally noticing the ache in his knees. 

Holy shit, that had happened. It had definitely happened. 

With a dazed look, Arthur pulled Merlin to his feet, pressing their lips together into a filthy kiss. Merlin hummed into it, wrapping his arms around Arthur’s shoulders, and yelped when Arthur pushed away from the sink and pressed Merlin against the opposite wall, crowding him. His lips found a spot below Merlin’s ear that made him moan so loudly he immediately clamped his mouth shut. 

Arthur unzipped his jeans and the relief was so immediate that only Arthur pinning him in place kept him from sliding to the floor.

“I’m not gonna last long, I—” the sentence ended on a strangled sound as Arthur gripped his cock, hand firm and tight around him. 

Holy fuck. He caught a glance of himself in the mirror over Arthur’s shoulder. His lips were bright red and opened on a moan, his cheeks were flushed and his hand was digging into Arthur’s shoulder. 

He came immediately, hard and fast, gasping for breath while Arthur stroked him through it. Slumping against Arthur, he pressed his forehead to Arthur’s shoulder, head reeling as he slowly came back to himself. Arthur was brushing his fingers over Merlin’s neck, sending lazy sparks of contentment through him. 

They shared a soft kiss before they pulled apart and moved around each other, washing their hands and trying to get Merlin’s hair to look less like he’d just sucked someone off. They smiled at each other in the mirror. 

*

On Sunday, they opened the ice rink for the staff after the festival closed for the evening. It was a cold night, starry and clear. Merlin had his knitted hat on, along with his gloves, as he locked up the stall and headed to the rink. Some of the staff and vendors were already inside the rink, while some were lacing up their skates. 

Elena waved him over, rising from her seat and wobbling slightly.

“Hi!” She beamed. “Join me and Mith? I, personally, haven’t seen you enough this year since Stallgate happened.” She handed him a pair of skates in his size. “I’m claiming you before anyone else does.”

“No one else was claiming me, don’t worry.” He rolled his eyes in a show of mock-exasperation when she laughed.

“Is everyone on the rink already?” 

“A few are. Mith went ahead. I haven’t seen Gwaine yet, but he’ll make himself known.”

They slid onto the ice, holding onto each other for a few seconds before they found their footing. _Jingle Bell Rock_ was playing over the speakers while Merlin did a couple of experimental glides to see if he still could. He turned, gliding backwards for a moment, and swerved. Someone zoomed past, almost pushing him over. All was normal. 

In the middle of the rink was a large Christmas tree and a small model of a Christmas village; little cottages with lit-up windows and people making tiny snowmen outside. The rink circled the podium, everyone skating around it. They soon caught up to Mithian who was doing a lazy figure eight on her own and Elena skated into her, nearly knocking her over, laughing when the two of them stumbled.

“Fucking hell, Ellie.” Mithian wailed. “If you wanted to kill me, you’ve had plenty of opportunities already.”

“Just happy to see you!”

“Funny way of showing it.”

Elena linked her arm through Merlin and Mithian’s, attempting a slightly impractical threeway skate. They made their way around to the other side of the tree, getting tangled in each other’s legs far too often. Elena nearly did a nosedive and was held hovering over the ice by Merlin and Mithian. Merlin laughed so hard he had to bend over after they’d helped Elena back on her feet. He held onto his knees, fighting against the giggles that just kept bubbling over. Elena and Mithian started laughing because he was, and then all three of them were just helplessly clutching each other in the middle of the rink. 

They finally pulled themselves together just in time to find Gwen and Morgana skating slowly, arms linked. Morgana waved at them as they went by. She was wearing a large, red knitted hat and mittens that looked like Elena’s handiwork. 

“I thought I saw you guys try to flatten Elena earlier,” Gwen said and Mithian bit her bottom lip, a smile threatening to spread.

“Don’t get us started,” Merlin said, not daring to look at them in case he was set off.

Elena clapped her hands, muted by her mittens. “We should race!” 

“I don’t usually volunteer to lose, so I don’t think so,” Morgana said. 

“Come on! I’ll give you a head start. Just one lap.”

Gwen and Morgana shared a look and Morgana groaned, throwing her head back. “Fine. I’ll race you. I want a solid head start, though.”

“Hey, where’s Arthur?” Merlin asked, as casually as he could.

Morgana shrugged. “Couldn’t get him on the ice. You know.”

The girls bickered about the rules of the race and Merlin left them to it, skating back to the entrance. He finally spotted Arthur leaning on the rink, watching people as they passed. This really wouldn’t do. Merlin wouldn’t stand for it. He glided across the ice, catching Arthur’s gaze.

“Why are you standing around here?” Merlin asked, coming to a stop and gripping the fence next to Arthur. “Everyone’s out on the ice!”

“Well, Morgana’s out there and someone’s got to handle the stall if she breaks her wrist.”

“Well, if you each break one wrist, you still have two between you, right?”

Arthur inclined his head and narrowed his eyes. “We might break a leg each. What then?”

“I have a theory,” Merlin said, leaning closer, fighting the urge to bury his face in Arthur’s neck. 

“I’m _so_ interested in this theory from the true genius of our generation.”

Merlin hummed, lowering his voice. “I—” He paused for effect. “—think you can’t skate.”

Arthur rolled his eyes. His hands were folded in front of him, leaning over the board. “Got me there, oh great oracle.”

“I’ll teach you.”

“No, absolutely not. Ab _so_ lutely not.”

“Please. It’ll be fun. If you hate it, we’ll stop right away. I’ll leave too and buy you some cocoa at the café, or whatever else you want.” Merlin didn’t know why he felt so desperate for Arthur to do this. It shouldn’t matter, and it was fine if he truly didn’t want to. He just didn’t like that Arthur was here, alone, when everyone else was having fun. He hastened to add, “You don’t have to.”

Arthur looked at him, silence stretching, and then his face softened a bit and he straightened up, digging his hands into his pockets. “Ok. Teach me, then.” 

Merlin beamed, grabbing Arthur’s hand and then dropping it as if it had burned him. His cheeks flushed and he ducked his head, cursing himself inwardly for being the least smooth person in the world. He could have Arthur’s dick in his mouth but he couldn’t hold his hand without freaking out about it? Fucking stupid. When he dared to look at Arthur, he seemed to be biting back a smile. 

At the entrance to the rink, Arthur found skates in his size and held one in each hand as if they were bombs he had to diffuse. 

“Here,” Merlin said, keeping his voice calm. He loosened the laces on the skates and pushed Arthur down on the bench. Arthur batted him away. 

“I can put on shoes by myself, Merlin! I’m not five years old.”

“Alright, alright. Sorry! Just lace them up tight.”

Arthur looked up when he’d finished, dread visible in his expression. “What now?”

“Take my hands.” Merlin held them out and gripped Arthur by the wrists, pulling him upright. 

He wobbled dangerously, like a new-born colt, and shot Merlin an accusatory glare. 

“It’s better on the ice,” Merlin said. 

“Somehow I really doubt that.”

They managed to get out onto the ice and Merlin directed Arthur to hold onto the board while getting used to the feel of the skates on his feet. 

“This sure isn’t humiliating at all,” Arthur said, sliding back and forth, holding on so tightly his knuckles were white. 

“Yes, well, everyone here learned at some point, Arthur. I promise it’s fine.” Merlin grabbed his arm to keep him steady. “Maybe it’ll be better if we try like this.” He locked their arms together at the elbow and gave them a little boost of speed, guiding Arthur along.

They continued like this for a bit, keeping away from the rest as best they could, until Arthur was steadier on his feet and was even pushing back against the ice a bit. 

“You’re doing so well,” Merlin said, loosening his grip a bit. 

Arthur gave him a sharp look. “Don’t patronise me.”

“I’m not patronising you, I’m being supportive.”

“Well, don’t be!” 

Merlin laughed, slipping his hand down to hold Arthur’s. “I’m sorry. Do you want to stop? We can go if you’d like.”

Worrying his bottom lip between his teeth, Arthur sighed and shook his head. “No, let’s keep going.” 

“Alright, so let’s try and see if you can glide on one skate and then switch your weight to the other.” Merlin gave him some space, but continued to hold him steady. 

Eventually, Arthur was moving quite steadily along, and Merlin let him go, grinning at Arthur windmilling his arms to keep his balance. He hid his laughter behind his hand, trying to school his face when Arthur turned back and moved towards him on somewhat steady feet. 

“Are you laughing at me, Merlin?” Arthur asked as he glided into him, hands gripping Merlin’s upper arms to steady them on impact. 

“No,” Merlin said, but it came out like a squeak. 

“Oh, really? So you’re definitely not laughing at the poor newbie you’ve forced onto the ice for this particular kind of torture, then.”

“I don’t know where you’ve got that from. I’m extremely serious about your skating career.”

Arthur hooked his arm around Merlin’s shoulders and locked him in place. Merlin tried to twist out of the hold, laughing as he struggled against it. His face was pressed against Arthur’s suede winter jacket, and he brought his hands up, attempting to tickle Arthur just enough to let him go. The jacket was too thick for that to have any effect, so he slipped his fingers under it, finding bare skin where the sweater underneath had ridden up a bit. 

“Hey! Hey!” Arthur wobbled, laughing despite himself. “This is unseemly behaviour for a skating teacher.”

Using Arthur’s slight overbalance to his advantage, Merlin managed to twist himself free, escaping with a hard push of his skate against the ice. He glided away, still laughing. To his astonishment, Arthur followed him, only hesitating for a moment. 

“Can you do a lap of the rink?” Merlin asked when Arthur caught up. 

In answer, Arthur tried to accelerate but his skate caught on the ice and he nearly fell on his face. Merlin bit back his laughter, lips pressed tight. 

They moved alongside each other, Merlin staying close in case he had to reach out and steady Arthur, but Arthur was doing better and better as they made their way relatively slowly along the ice. Suddenly, they almost collided with Gwen and Morgana who came at them from the side. 

“Oh my god!” Morgana said, gripping Arthur by the arm, her smile bright and genuine. “You’re on the ice!”

“Always a talent for pointing out the _very_ obvious.” 

“Did you do this?” she asked Merlin. “You did this.”

“He did it himself,” Merlin said, and she waved him off. 

“Oh, god, as if he’d voluntarily do this.” She rubbed her hand over Arthur’s upper arm. “Maybe we’ll make a real boy of you yet.”

While they bickered, Gwen caught Merlin’s gaze and did a complicated dance of expressions. He was fairly sure he understood what she was trying to say, but he feigned ignorance, giving questioning looks in return. 

“Maybe let Arthur enjoy this in peace,” Gwen finally said, pulling Morgana by the arm. “Now that he’s actually here. Which we think is great, and we want him to keep being here, right, Morgana?” 

Morgana let herself be pulled away, but only after petting Arthur on the cheek one last time. 

Merlin locked their arms together at the elbow again, steering them calmly through the rest of the skaters around them. Mithian and Elena waved when they passed, and Gwaine nearly knocked them over as he sped along the ice. Merlin and Arthur were in no rush, though, and Merlin enjoyed the easy glide of their skates while _White Christmas_ played over the speakers and their breaths curled visibly from their lips. He probably could have let go and Arthur would’ve been fine, but he didn’t want to. Instead, he leaned into Arthur’s broad shoulder, sneaking glances at his face as often as he could. Arthur’s cheeks were red from the cold, and he smiled easily when he caught Merlin looking at him. 

Merlin had a strong urge to pull Arthur in by the hand and kiss him here by the giant Christmas tree, the lights from the little village illuminating their faces. There was a soft, delicate feeling blooming in his chest as he thought about it, picturing the expression on Arthur’s face just before he’d close the distance. He fought a stupid, dazed smile at the idea. 

Instead, he pretended to stumble, his heart skipping when Arthur put a hand around his back and held him closer. 

When they reached the entrance to the rink again, Arthur gave him an apologetic smile. “My calves are kind of killing me.”

“Well, I do think I owe you a cocoa.”

*

“You always try to keep quiet,” Arthur said and it pulled Merlin out of the haze he’d been enveloped in. 

Merlin raised his head from the pillow and looked down, nearly choking on air at the sight of Arthur’s hand wrapped around his cock and his red lips hovering near the tip. 

Merlin used his remaining brainpower to say, “Mrmgh?”

Arthur laughed, one hand stroking along Merlin’s hip. “You try to stop yourself whenever you make noises. Why?”

Oh fuck, did he really have to have this conversation now, when Arthur was sucking his brain out through his dick? 

“This is very unfair timing,” he managed to get out, glaring. 

Arthur gave a sheepish smile. “Sorry. It’s just—” His teeth sunk into his bottom lip. “I want to hear you. When you like it.”

Merlin’s head dropped back onto the pillow and he clenched his eyes shut. That was somehow the _hottest thing_ he’d ever heard in his fucking life and he wanted to cry. He wanted to curl up into a ball and cry about how hot that was, how warm it made him feel. 

“Ok, can you.” He stuttered a bit. “Can you pull back for a sec?”

Arthur immediately sat back, watching him. Merlin felt stupidly exposed, his legs spread and his hard cock jutting up between them.

“I realise this was probably a bad time to bring this up,” Arthur said, grimacing. “We don’t have to—”

“No, it’s fine. It’s really fine, I just need a clear head.”

“Yeah, that’s exactly why I shouldn’t have—”

Merlin leaned up on his elbow so he could look Arthur in the face. He took a deep breath. “Someone I was with for a while always commented that I made a lot of noise. It’s stupid, but he made me really self-conscious about it. So I guess I always hold back.”

Arthur’s jaw clenched and he pressed his lips into a line. “It’s not stupid. That it made you feel self-conscious.”

“A bit. It shouldn’t matter to me what he thought about it, but…” He trailed off, giving a one-shouldered shrug. 

“The problem was entirely his and he was an arsehole for saying it.”

Merlin didn’t know what to say to that. Arthur had said it forcefully, with so much conviction. 

“You can make any sounds you’re comfortable with. Or keep them back if you’re more comfortable with that. But don’t hold them back on my account. I like it a lot. I like knowing what you enjoy. Also, it’s just really hot.”

Sinking back down, slinging a hand over his eyes, Merlin sighed. 

“You can’t just say things like that.” 

“It’s just the truth.”

Merlin felt too big for his skin. Overwhelmed. 

“Please get back to what you were doing before I say something embarrassing.” 

Arthur laughed, and then his mouth was there again, hot and insistent. Merlin’s erection had flagged a bit, but the slick heat of Arthur’s mouth made him hard so fast his head spun. Arthur’s mouth was pure sin. Merlin couldn’t believe he hadn’t had it wrapped around his cock until now. It seemed like a terrible oversight. 

Hands gripped his hips, fingers pressing into him. It was on the edge of painful, but that made it more intense when Arthur sucked him, tongue flat against the underside of his cock. Merlin’s hips hitched, but Arthur was pinning them to the bed, holding him in place as he slid Merlin’s cock past his lips. 

Arthur’s tongue rubbed against a spot that sent sparks up his spine, and he tensed, biting back the sounds building in his throat. He caught himself, sinking one hand into Arthur’s hair, battling with his own instincts before parting his lips and letting out a long moan. It was loud in the quiet room, and so desperate-sounding that the familiar shame curled in his stomach. He peered down to find Arthur looking up at him. Their eyes locked. Arthur moaned around his cock, and the feeling of it combined with the visual of Arthur’s mouth stretched around him made Merlin’s brain scramble. 

He tossed his head to the side, his hips moving as much as Arthur’s grip would allow, and he let out a shuddering breath as his muscles tensed all over. His fingers twisted in Arthur’s hair, fighting the urge to push Arthur closer. He wanted to bury himself into the heat of him, just sink in and stay there. 

A strangled little _uh_ slipped from his mouth and Arthur gripped the base of his cock, jerking him while he swirled his tongue around the head. 

“Oh, _fuck_ ,” Merlin said, voice loud and strained. “Oh, god, I, _hngh_.”

He twisted his fingers into Arthur’s hair, distantly noticing it had to be too hard, and his breath came in harsh gasps. His brain was just a haze, all focus narrowed to the hot glide of Arthur’s mouth. When Arthur moved his hand away and sank almost all the way down, enveloping him in heat, Merlin didn’t even have time to warn Arthur. His orgasm slammed into him. The tension released in bursts of pleasure and he heard himself make a sound so loud it might as well have been a shout. It all washed over him, making his arms tingle. 

He slumped back, feeling light-headed, and covered his burning face with his hands. _Fuck_. Fucking hell. The bed dipped and Arthur tucked in next to him, body solid and warm. Merlin curled into it, and then barely had enough of a brain left to realise Arthur still hadn’t come. He opened his eyes to find Arthur looking at him, gaze intensely focused, drinking him in. Arthur was jerking himself, a blush high on his cheeks and his eyes glassy. 

Merlin reached down and found Arthur’s hand, stilling his movements. Arthur let Merlin circle his fingers around his cock, and then wrapped his own hand over Merlin’s, fucking up into their grip. Merlin leaned in. It was part kiss, part Arthur gasping into his mouth, breath coming fast. When he came over their hands, he groaned low in his throat, mouth going slack. 

Since Merlin had gotten at least a few moments to recover, he forced himself to slip out of bed. He rinsed his hand in the sink and brought back a damp flannel for Arthur, slipping back into bed and under the covers. Turning onto his side, he met Arthur’s eyes and smiled, curling himself into a ball, a feeling of total relaxation washing over him. 

*

Arthur was still there. Merlin stretched out a hand in the dark, finding his broad back. He tucked himself against Arthur, hooking one arm around him, splaying his fingers over Arthur’s stomach. He was warm in sleep, and Merlin pressed his face against Arthur’s neck. Closing his eyes, he tried to ignore the tingling warmth in his stomach, spreading out through his body. He shouldn’t be happy about realising they’d fallen asleep together. 

Things were getting complicated. It was one thing to find Arthur stupidly attractive, to make out and give bathroom blowjobs at a party. It was another thing entirely to feel all soft at the memory of Arthur holding his hand at the skating rink. Merlin pressed an open-mouthed kiss to the back of Arthur’s neck, rubbing his hand slowly over Arthur’s soft stomach. 

He stayed like that for a few minutes, tucked up against his back, before Arthur stirred, leaning back, still half asleep. He stretched, humming, and turned, running a hand over Merlin’s ribs. Merlin could just about see him in the dark: his eyes were bleary and a slow smile was spreading over his lips. 

“Morning,” he said, voice rough. 

“Hi,” Merlin whispered, not wanting to break the quiet of the morning. 

Arthur caught his top lip between his own, slowly slanting his lips across Merlin’s. 

“What time is it?”

Reluctantly, Merlin fumbled for his phone. He groaned and dropped it on the bedside table. “Almost eight.”

Arthur tucked himself tighter into the covers, groaning into the pillow. 

“If I shower first, I can fix breakfast while you shower,” Merlin said, forcing himself out of their warm cocoon.

“You don’t have to do that.”

“You don’t want breakfast?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“Someone has to make it. You might not believe it, but I don’t have a live-in chef.”

“Shocking.” Arthur’s eyes followed him as he rose from the bed and walked towards the bathroom. 

He tried not to think about Arthur’s naked body tucked into his bed while he showered. It was too tempting to fall back into it and just spend the day there, forgetting the festival. Forgetting the entire rest of the world, for good measure. He tried to keep his thoughts away, focusing on remembering the lyrics to _Frosty the Snowman_ which had somehow gotten stuck in his head.

When he stepped out of the shower and got dressed, Arthur was no longer in bed. 

“The shower is free!” Merlin called, heading down the stairs. 

Outside, the sun was rising. It bathed his kitchen in the pale light of December morning. When Arthur came in, Merlin was by the stove making an omelette. He had some rolls that his mum had brought him earlier in the week, and some fresh greens he could add on the side, and a pot of freshly brewed coffee. Arthur took a seat by the small kitchen table, peering out the window into the gorgeous winter morning. 

“I got bored while you were in the shower,” Arthur said as he watched Merlin plate their breakfast. “I feel like I should say that I looked around and found your studio.”

Merlin laughed, taking a seat across from him. “Are you a spy? Who sent you?”

“Yeah, Morgana sent me to sabotage you. It’s been a long con.”

“I knew it! That’s why you really made an effort on that first impression.”

Rubbing at the back of his neck, Arthur smiled sheepishly. “I was really stressed that day. I had no idea what I was doing and Morgana had dragged me here more or less against my will, even though I was kind of relieved to be away. From things.”

Merlin held out the basket of rolls before taking one for himself. “Yeah, well. It only got to me because the festival is the only place where I showcase my art, even if it’s just the Christmas cards. I’ve just gotten used to it being exactly the way I expect it to be.”

“Why don’t you have a store? Or a feature in someone else’s store?” Arthur asked, cutting himself a piece of the omelette. “Your art is really good. There’s no reason why there should only be a stall at the Christmas festival. I could help you set it up, maybe, if you want to.”

A nauseating sense of déjà vu settled in the pit of his stomach and Merlin looked out the window, trying and failing to keep his equilibrium. A bird sat on the branch right outside the kitchen, cocking its little head this way and that. 

“Merlin?” Arthur said, voice hesitant. “I didn’t mean to—”

“It’s fine,” he hurried to say before the words got stuck. He sighed and took a bite of his omelette, meeting Arthur’s eyes across the table. “My ex, Mordred, and I had a plan to create a gallery space. It was part store, part gallery for my paintings. He promised to help and we saved for it for over a year, putting aside everything we could. Every little amount outside what little we spent day to day. We’d saved enough for a down payment on a small loan to get started.” 

He paused, swallowing against the lump in his throat. He fucking hated how this still got to him. Arthur was just looking at him, expression grim. 

“One day, he was just gone. Emptied out the savings account and taken off to god knows where. I had no way to get a loan anymore.” Merlin shrugged, suddenly unable to take another bite. “I took a job at the school and I make my Christmas cards. It is what it is.”

“Merlin,” Arthur said, reaching over to take his hand. Merlin realised it was shaking. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know. I never would’ve said anything if I did, I—” 

“No, I know. I never talk about it.” He smiled ruefully. “I probably should. People keep telling me to not let him win.”

“Oh, fuck that,” Arthur said so vehemently it surprised Merlin into clamping his mouth shut. “He could never win. He’s a giant sack of shit.”

A genuine smile spread across his face. “Thank you.” 

“Do you want more omelette?” Arthur asked, even though Merlin had barely touched his. He picked up his fork and took another bite.

It seemed impossible that he’d thought Arthur was an arsehole at any point in time. Nothing could be further from the truth, bad first impressions aside. He was here at the festival for Morgana, being a supportive brother underneath all their bickering, and he believed in Merlin’s art. Offered to help, even.

Merlin’s cheeks flushed, watching Arthur sip at his coffee and tear a piece from his roll. Having breakfast together felt about as natural as anything else they’d done. Sitting across from each other in Merlin’s little kitchen, talking over a bit of coffee, after waking up in the same bed. 

“My father has been pressuring me lately,” Arthur said suddenly, not meeting Merlin’s eyes. “To get engaged to a girl, have a family, take over the family business.”

Silence stretched, and Merlin waited for a continuation that never came. 

“Do you want to?”

Arthur looked up and met his gaze. “No.”

“Oh, well—”

“But I don’t think I realised that until recently.”

“So you’re here, getting away from him.”

“Figuring myself out, is what Morgana tells me.”

“Something tells _me_ this is largely Morgana’s plan.”

Arthur snorted. “What gave you that idea?” He sipped at his coffee. “Well, for what it’s worth, she was right. Don’t tell her that.”

“Right about what?”

“Getting away, getting a different perspective. Distance. Taking a break.”

They ate the rest of their breakfast over much lighter topics and left together for another day at the festival. 

*

That night, Merlin painted. 

His studio, which was actually the guest bedroom, was a slight mess of discarded Christmas cards and some works in progress which he tried not to look at as he started painting on a fresh canvas in the corner of the room. Rather than thinking about what he was going to do, he just let himself paint on instinct. He felt moved to do this today. To start something fresh, something unplanned, to see where it took him. 

He painted in hues of blue, from a soft periwinkle to a deep navy. 

The day had put him slightly off-kilter. Waking up with Arthur, having breakfast together, watching him laughing with Morgana across the street. The way his heart skipped when Arthur showed up outside the stall with a crooked smile and a cup of cocoa. 

Snapshots of the day flitted across his mind as he dusted some cobalt along the edge of the canvas. He rolled his shoulders, muscles tight, but kept going, adding powder blue to a lighter, softer spot near the middle of the canvas. 

Merlin jumped, heart racing in fright, when there was a loud, unfamiliar sound behind him. He turned, finding Arthur standing in the doorway, forearm leaning against the frame. There was a warm smile playing on his lips, laughter dancing in his eyes. Clearly, he’d tried to get Merlin’s attention for a while. 

“Sorry,” Merlin said, putting his palette down onto the desk by the window. “I’m a bit lost to the world sometimes.”

“Yeah, I could’ve burgled you several times over, probably.” 

Merlin stepped into Arthur’s space and leaned in for a kiss. Arthur’s hands came down to rest over Merlin’s paint-stained sweatpants, gripping his hips through the fabric, fingers digging into his thighs. The kiss turned hot and messy, Arthur sliding his tongue into Merlin’s mouth with an assertiveness that made Merlin lose his breath. 

They ended up in bed, kisses fierce and burning, Arthur’s hands intent on exploring every inch of his body. They took their time, touching each other, lazily bringing each other off, kissing softly and then with consuming intensity. It was slow until it brought them to a point where desperation took over, their touches insistent and hot. 

Arthur fucked him, hands gripping his hips, Merlin’s cheek pressed against the pillow. His open mouth dragged across the fabric as he moved, eyes rolling back at the feeling of being filled. It had been a long time. And it was almost too much, pushing himself back onto Arthur’s cock, holding his moans back until they broke like a dam and spilled out. He just _moaned_ as reality narrowed to the feeling of Arthur’s fingers pressing into his skin, holding him in place. 

He couldn’t hold onto his thoughts anymore. They scattered one by one into the night. He could barely remember his own name when Arthur reached around and gripped his cock, and he came, shaking apart with a long groan that started from somewhere so deep he felt like it pulled something out of him. 

*

When Merlin woke, the space next to him was empty but still warm. Tucking the covers closer around himself, he closed his eyes and nuzzled against the pillow Arthur had slept on, inhaling the vague scent of his cologne. From downstairs came the sounds of a cupboard closing, plates clattering against the counter, Arthur walking across the creaky spot in the floor. 

Unbidden, the thought that there were only a few short days left of the festival came to him. He climbed out of bed, hoping to leave the thought there altogether. It followed him into the shower and creeped behind him as he looked into the mirror. 

He had no idea what they were. Mostly, they were fucking, but the sleepovers and the joint breakfasts were complications. They certainly weren’t dating, though. Arthur had given no hint that this was anything more than a thing they were doing. The fact of the matter was that Arthur was here for the festival and then he would return to his regular London life. 

_You should go to London_ , Elena had said. He shook his head. 

When Merlin descended the stairs, he heard the muffled sound of Christmas songs on the radio and the clanging of cutlery. He stopped for a moment on the last step, listening to Arthur moving around the kitchen to the sounds of _White Christmas_. Pulling himself together, he crossed through the living room and into the kitchen, leaning against the doorframe. The kitchen was warmly lit, the table was set, and Arthur was slicing cucumber at the counter. Merlin stepped up behind him, reaching up into the cupboard above as a pretence to lean in close. The heat of Arthur’s body against his chest made Merlin want to tuck himself against him. Arthur turned toward him, a smile pulling at his lips. 

“Actually, there are already mugs on the table,” Arthur said, putting the knife down. 

“Oh, are there?” Merlin said innocently as he closed the door. 

Arthur pulled Merlin against him and kissed him softly, a smile still lingering on his lips. He made to let go, but Merlin hooked his arms over Arthur’s shoulders and deepened the kiss, moving his mouth slowly over Arthur’s. The low, soft opening of _The Christmas Song_ drifted from the radio. With closed eyes, Merlin honed in on the warm pressure against his lips, the hand at his back, the quiet music. He drowned himself in the moment until they pulled apart, his lips tingling. 

He left one arm around Arthur’s shoulder, and Arthur kept one around his waist. His heart beat a bit too fast in his chest, letting himself settle into the intimacy. 

“Is breakfast ready?” he asked, voice bright. 

“It was about to be, until you distracted me.”

“That’s _terrible_ of me.”

“just go sit down, Merlin. There’s coffee on the table.”

Reluctantly, Merlin let him go and took a seat by the table, glancing out the window as he poured himself a cup. It was cloudy, on the precipice of snow. There was that moment of quiet just before flurries would fall out of the sky, covering them in a heavy, white blanket. He would probably have to shovel the walkway later. 

“Hasn’t Morgana noticed you’re not staying at the hotel?” Merlin asked when Arthur sat down opposite and placed a plate of toast on the table between them. 

Arthur looked up, eyebrow raised. “I know you thought we were dating, but we don’t actually share a room, you know.” He buttered a piece of toast. “Besides, Morgana hasn’t been at the hotel for like a week.”

“What?” 

“Oh, this is great! You don’t actually know, do you?”

“Hey, know what?”

“We’re not the only ones who’ve spent some… extra time together.” Arthur very nearly waggled his eyebrows and Merlin swatted at him. 

“No! Who is it? Gwaine?”

“Didn’t Morgana tell you about her preferences for ample breasts?”

“I—” Merlin’s mouth dropped open. “ _No_. Gwen?”

Arthur grinned. “Since about five minutes after we set the stall up, I think. She swooped in fast. Called dibs, even.”

“Gross. Dibs?” Merlin pulled a face. “Were you interested?”

“I guess we have to have a system when we both sort of veer into each other’s potential interests. I don’t want any horrible mix ups. I wouldn’t want to have to kill her, or myself.” Arthur looked up and met his eyes. “And, no. I wasn’t.”

“Hey, why not? I’ll have you know that Gwen is gorgeous and brilliant and, like, the best person in the world.”

“Oh, so you’re offended that I _wasn’t_ interested in Gwen.”

“Yes,” Merlin said, waving a piece of toast around. “It’s unbelievably rude of you.”

“Fair. So, should I get on that now, or?”

“Ew, no, she’s fucking your sister.”

They broke out laughing and when they recovered, it had started snowing.

*

Merlin cornered Gwen in the café, grabbing her by the elbow just as she finished paying for her order. 

“She’ll take it here,” Merlin said to Sophia while he dragged Gwen towards a table. 

He pushed Gwen down into the chair, and rounded the table to sit down across from her. 

Leaning in, he hissed, “Why didn’t you tell me you’re with Morgana?”

Her eyes went wide and she clamped a hand over her mouth. “How do _you_ know that?” Her voice was muffled into her palm. 

“A little birdie told me.”

“What birdie?”

“A Common Shag.”

“Uhm?”

“Never mind.” Merlin looked up and paused as Sophia dropped by with her order. 

Gwen sank back into the chair and opened the buttons on the thick coat she was still wearing. “We’ve been trying to keep it a bit quiet. I don’t know if I can say it’s entirely secret? But we haven’t really told people either.”

“I’m not _people_.”

“I would’ve told you soon, I promise. It’s just a bit nerve-wracking getting into this again. After everything.” 

Merlin immediately felt bad. He nudged her foot with his and she smiled. “If this makes you happy, you deserve it so much. You deserve it more than anyone in the world.”

“That’s very sweet, Merlin, but also a massive exaggeration.”

“No, it’s 100% the truth.”

“It makes me happy.” She tried to fight a smile, but it bloomed, impossibly bright. “She does.”

“Good.”

“But who told you? Don’t think you’re getting out of answering that.”

Merlin scratched at the back of his neck and shrugged. “Arthur did.”

“Arthur told you. When?”

“Earlier.”

Gwen narrowed her eyes. “Earlier. When you were both working in different stalls? Or were you taking extensive breaks without Morgana there?”

Groaning, Merlin covered his face with his hands. “At breakfast.” When he peeked between his fingers, Gwen was pointing at him. 

“I _can’t_ believe you just tried to give _me_ shit about not telling you about Morgana.”

“You can’t tell anyone,” Merlin said, quickly, pulling his coat off and letting it hang over the chair. “I don’t even know if Morgana knows.”

“What is—? Like, wha—?” Gwen waved her hands around, eyes wide. “Last I knew, you hated him!”

“Hate is a strong word. Also, last you knew, I was teaching him to skate.”

“You’re nice! You’d do that if you felt bad for him, even if you strongly disliked him. Need I remind you about the time you taught Gilli to knit even though he was the absolute worst?”

“I did. Strongly dislike him. And then I suddenly… didn’t?”

“Oh, great, this is just a very sensical explanation.”

“If I had a better one, I’d give it.” Merlin bit his lip, looking down at the table, following the grooves in the wood as if they were the most interesting thing in the world. “I spent more time with him and changed my mind. Is the only explanation I can give.”

“Don’t get me wrong, I’m really glad you don’t hate him. It was a stupid argument to begin with.”

“Yes, thanks, I already know your feelings on that, extensively.”

“Does he make you happy?”

Merlin tried to go for a smile, but he wasn’t sure it ended up that way. “I don’t think we’re doing quite what you guys are doing.” 

She tucked her lips between her teeth and gave him a long look, reaching out to take his hand between hers. “If this ends with him breaking your heart, I swear I will never see Morgana again, and I’ll—”

“No, Gwen, god.” He held her hand so tightly it had to hurt. “There are no hearts involved. It’s fine.” He looked at her concerned face and felt a lump in his throat. “I love you.”

“I love you too, you fool.” 

They said nothing for a few moments. The low chatter around them filled the silence until Merlin broke it.

“Have you talked about it? Where you’re going from here?” 

“Yes.” She tucked a curl behind her ear, her hand coming to rest on her chest, fingers rubbing absent-mindedly against her collarbone. “Merlin, I might be going to London.”

The bottom fell out of his stomach and he kind of wanted to vomit. “Might be?”

“I think, maybe definitely I will. I was already thinking about it. It feels right, now, after everything, and now I have a proper reason, too.”

“Holy shit, Gwen, this is—massive.”

She gave a breathless laugh. “Yeah. It is. Please, I—Ok, I’m not going to ask you to come with me. But I also don’t want to leave you here.”

 _You should go to London_. 

“Gwen, you can’t think about me. This is you. And your life.”

“I always think about you.”

He swallowed against the lump in this throat. “You’re making this really hard right now.”

“I’m sorry.”

Not knowing what to say, he just held her hand.

*

“What are you reading?” 

Merlin looked down at Arthur who was leaning against him, head on Merlin’s chest. He’d been scrolling on his phone, but now his face was upturned, his expression open and relaxed. Merlin was sitting upright against the pillows, one hand on his book and the other at the nape of Arthur’s neck, fingers stroking in light circles. 

“An Ishiguro novel Mithian recommended.”

“Is it good?”

“Ishiguro is always good,” Merlin said. 

Arthur looked down again, his cheek resting against Merlin’s chest. “I miss reading. I used to read quite a lot, actually, but then you get busy, and you know.”

“Yeah, I know. I had a few years where I read nothing. Nothing kept my interest at all.”

“Do you have any suggestions? What should I read?” 

“Well, what did you like to read before?”

“I read a lot of fantasy, actually.”

“Really? I actually never would’ve guessed that for you.”

“Well, I even read some classics. I contain multitudes.”

“Wow, you sure do,” Merlin said, carding his fingers through Arthur’s hair. “I can make you a list of books you might like.”

Arthur hummed, sounding so distant that Merlin was fairly sure Arthur had no idea what he just said. He continued to run his hand through Arthur’s hair, only pausing to flip the page whenever he couldn’t manage to do it one-handed. Soon, Arthur’s breath evened out into sleep. 

Merlin stayed awake too long reading, and when he finally put the book away and gently shimmied down under the covers to not disturb Arthur too much, he couldn’t sleep at all. He lay there, blinking up into the ceiling, his hand resting at the back of Arthur’s head, Arthur’s hot breath fanning over his chest. 

*

“Who came in and rampaged your house?” 

Merlin turned at the sound of Arthur’s voice. Arthur stood in the doorway to the living room, looking around wide-eyed. There were boxes all over the floor, surrounding Merlin in an expanding circle.

“The elves did,” he said, keeping his face neutral. 

“Ah, the elves. I hear they’re real cutthroat.”

Merlin laughed, leaning down to open one of the nearby boxes. “Cutthroat, sure. Christmas elves are known for being that.”

Making his way through the maze of boxes, Arthur exclaimed, “What are you even doing?” after nearly falling headfirst.

“Decorating for Christmas, of course.” 

“It’s already decorated.”

“No, no. That’s where you’re wrong.” Merlin waved a Snowman figurine at him. “It’s been decorated a little bit, for phase one. This is phase two. This is where things get _real_.”

“I hope to god there’s no phase three.”

“You can help me,” Merlin said, grinning at him. “I still have the tree out back. You can help me set it up, and get all this unboxed.”

“Are you sure we actually have time to do that before I have to go back to London? This is madness, Merlin.”

A weird silence fell for a moment.

“Of course there’s time,” Merlin said, not looking at Arthur. “Are you doubting the expert decorator? Because I have years of experience.”

“Alright, sure. I’ll bend to the will of the elves. What do you need me to do?”

“Right now I’m looking for the garlands. There’s one for the banister and one that goes above the fireplace.”

“I thought you said you were the expert. You don’t even have the boxes labelled?”

“Alright, I didn’t ask for your judgement!”

“And yet, here it is, given to you for free.”

They began opening each box, searching through figurines, baubles, ornaments, fairy lights, and stockings to find the garlands. It was Arthur who finally found them and they put them up with only minor struggles before they went out for the tree.

“Where are you celebrating Christmas?” Merlin asked after they’d bickered over whether the tree was standing up straight. 

“I’m not sure,” Arthur said, looking through a box. “Where do you have the ornaments?”

“I think they’re over here?” 

“Why aren’t these—”

“If you’re going to ask me one more time why they’re not labelled.” Merlin shot him a look and Arthur rolled his eyes. “Hey, I need the lights. Wait, oh, here.”

He dragged out a long string of lights for the tree, all tangled together in a big ball. Arthur’s expression was unimpressed, his lips pressed together into a line. 

“See, this is fun,” Merlin said as he started untangling the lights. “It’s like a free brain teaser game. You know those problem solving ones!”

“How do you even live?”

“Hey, why don’t you help me instead of sassing me?”

“Help, how, exactly?”

“You start at this end!”

“We’ll just pull on the same ones and it’ll end up more tangled!”

“Oh my _god_ , ok, go into the kitchen and make us cocoa or something then.”

Merlin fell back onto the couch and continued untangling the ball of lights, listening to Arthur tinkering around inside. He grabbed his phone and put some Christmas music on, humming along instead of yelling out all the frustration at the fact that _wires were the devil_. 

“Sometimes I celebrate with Morgana, sometimes with some friends,” Arthur said from behind him, holding out a mug of cocoa. “Sometimes both.”

“Not your dad?” 

“We visit him for an hour or something on Christmas Eve and then we get the fuck out of there before we both explode.” Arthur took a sip. “What about you?”

“With my mum and sometimes my uncle Gaius. This year, it’ll be Gwen and Elyan as well, which is nice.”

“Let me try that for a bit,” Arthur said, grabbing the lights out his hands. 

“Yeah, I’ve loosened them up for you. They’re nearly there.”

Arthur side-eyed him, holding up the still very tangled mess. Merlin smiled into his mug, tucking himself into the corner of the sofa, watching Arthur struggle. He was worrying at his bottom lip, eyebrows knitted together as he picked at it. His focus was adorable. 

“So nice to have someone here to take care of things,” Merlin said. “Decorating is hard work.”

“If you’re about to suggest that I’ll finish up here while you take a nap, I swear I will murder you with these the moment I untangle them.”

“That’s not very festive of you, Arthur!”

“Well, there can be no murder more festive than this.” 

Merlin hummed, keeping back laughter. “What if you dressed up as Santa, came down the chimney and throttled me with a candy cane?”

“That’s freakishly specific.” Arthur said, breaking concentration to look up at him. “I’m not going to do that, although… I could if that’s what you’re into.”

“Oh, god.” Merlin let the laughter he’d been holding back burst out of him in a joyous explosion. “Good to know you’re up for anything.”

Finally, Arthur had untangled the lights and he stood from the couch, holding them out and shaking the last of them free from each other. 

“Why don’t you put them on the tree and I’ll let you know if I like the placement,” Merlin said from his spot in the corner of the couch. 

“You might _actually_ get throttled with that candy cane before this is over.”

*

On Thursday, it snowed again. Merlin watched it fall from the comfort of his stall. He leaned on the counter, looking up at the large, white flurries descending over them. It gave the festival a whole different atmosphere as everyone walked through the snow, donning hats and huge, woolly scarves, moving from stall to stall. The roofs of the stalls were covered in white and children were shrieking while they ran through the snow to the ice rink. 

Today was the last day of the festival. Merlin always felt morose at this point, but this year, he couldn’t allow himself to dig too deeply into it. It was more complicated than not seeing Gwaine, or not having them all together in one place until next December, or knowing that he’d miss Elena and Mithian terribly.

The last of his cards sold throughout the day, leaving only a box of wreaths left. He’d made more cards than last year, so that was quite a milestone for him, all things considered. Across the street, Elena and Mithian were both in Morgana and Arthur’s stall, all four of them talking and laughing at something Merlin couldn’t hear. Merlin smiled to himself and then had to look away, chest tight.

*

Morgana was his Secret Santa and she gave him a knife with a gorgeous metal handle embedded with stones and a sheath in the same style. It fit perfectly in his hand, solid and heavy. He held it carefully, looking at the intricate work she’d done on the handle.

“It’s not very original to give something from your own stall,” she said with an apologetic smile.

Merlin had only narrowly escaped giving Freya another painting, switching it out with a pottery class they could attend together at the last second, so he knew that problem all too well. 

“This is too much, Morgana.” He turned it over in his hand. “Too, too much.”

“Like you haven’t painted something for someone as a gift before.”

“Well, yeah, I have, but—”

She patted him on the arm. “Just say thank you, sweetie.”

“Thank you.” He leaned over and pulled her into a hug, squeezing her tight for a brief moment before letting go. “It’s truly gorgeous. You should keep doing this. Selling them, I mean.”

Morgana pushed her hair off her shoulder and leaned back, resting against the chair Freya was curled up in. She drummed her fingers against her thigh, staying quiet for a moment. 

“I might. I haven’t really decided what to do yet. It’s been a great experience, whatever else it turns into.”

“Most of us don’t do this full time, anyway.” Merlin made a vague gesture at everyone seated spread around his living room. ”Many just come back here every year, and work regular day jobs the rest of the year.” 

“Arthur says your art is very good.”

Merlin tried not to look at where Arthur was sitting deep in conversation with Elena and Mithian on the couch. “Arthur has really only seen whatever was laying around my studio at the time. I don’t think that’s a big enough sample.”

“You might want to work on accepting compliments, Merlin.”

He flushed a little, rubbing at his wrist. “Hey, sure. You can keep them coming and I’ll see what I can do.”

“They’re pretty rare from me, so you should probably just bask in the one you got.”

“Technically, you were just relaying one from Arthur.”

“Don’t get sassy with me, Merlin.” She laughed, swatting at him. 

Around them, the others were exchanging gifts. The cottage was in its ultimate Christmas form in time for this final night of the festival. Ornaments on the tree gleamed in the light from the fire and the fairy lights he and Arthur had hung around the room. On the windowsills a Christmas village sprawled from one window to the next. Gwaine, too, was in his ultimate Christmas form, donning a full Santa costume, sharing with Elyan the whisky Arthur had bought him.

Merlin watched Mithian handing Arthur a gift, attention fixed on his face as he opened it and broke into a joyful smile. His eyes were creased adorably at the edges, face bright and open. Merlin wanted to give him a thousand things, just to see him smile like that. He thought about the painting up in the studio. The one in different shades of blue, mostly abstract but with the faint silhouette of two people embracing if you looked at it closely. He knew it was Arthur’s, had been from the start, but he also knew he wasn’t going to find the courage to give it to him.

“This is the least secret Secret Santa I’ve ever taken part in,” Morgana said, tucking her feet under Merlin’s knees. “Truly an accomplishment.”

“Gets less secret every year. I’m pretty sure everyone talked to me at one point about what they’re giving, except you.”

She snorted. “I’m gonna miss you, Merlin. Please don’t be a stranger.”

“I’m gonna miss you too. I’ll come to London over summer, maybe.” He tried not to think about how awkward it would be to hang out with Morgana and have this undefined thing with Arthur hovering out in the open. 

He didn’t know whether to try to talk about it. Morgana and Arthur were leaving tomorrow afternoon and it would be torturous to just leave it hanging, not putting any sort of closure to the whole thing. But the idea of having the conversation also made him want to curl up and die. He didn’t know what to say about it, didn’t know how to wrap it up in any way that provided closure, didn’t know how to label it. 

His thoughts were interrupted by Gwen, tapping a spoon against her glass of wine and getting up to stand among them. 

“I’d just like to say a few words, as we’re all here together.” She looked around the room, a smile blooming on her face. “As the event manager for the Ealdor Christmas festival, I would like to congratulate everyone on another festival success. It’s been a lot of work, but seeing you all again is just always a joy. I’d like to propose a toast to us all for all the effort and all the fun.”

Everyone echoed her and raised their glasses in a toast. Merlin noticed that her hand was shaking around the stem. 

“On a more personal note,” Gwen said, voice wavering a little. “You all know it’s been a hard year for me. But during this festival, I met someone who changed my life. Morgana, love, I’m so happy to have met you.”

Morgana beamed at her and blew air kisses in her direction. 

“Wait, wait!” Elena cried. “What is this?”

“You haven’t noticed?” Gwaine asked, incredulously. “They’ve been as subtle as a ton of bricks.”

“Excuse you, I notice plenty, and they have _not_ been obvious!”

“Well,” Mithian said, stroking Elena’s arm. “Kind of.”

Elena glared at her and sniffed. “Your betrayal is noted.”

“So I’ve decided to move to London in January. It’s just time for something new for me.” Gwen gave a watery smile and her eyes met Merlin’s. “I’m still keeping the house and I’ll be back here plenty to bother Merlin, in particular, but yeah. Time for a fresh start.”

“ _What_?” Elena nearly screamed, slapping her hands against her cheeks. “Oh my god, I’m so excited!”

People began speaking at the same time, and Elena sprang from her seat to pull Gwen into her embrace. Merlin met no one’s eyes, and particularly not Arthur’s, his feelings spiking in every possible direction at once. He pulled in a couple of deep breaths and decided to focus on the most productive of the emotions welling up in him. 

“To Morgana and Gwen and fresh starts!” he called, holding up his glass in a toast. 

“To Morgana and Gwen and fresh starts!” Everyone repeated, raising their glasses. 

*

It was nearing two in the morning and the cottage was quieter. Will and Freya had already said their goodbyes, Freya hugging Merlin tight before they left, which had left Merlin feeling extra exposed and raw. The fact that his friends knew about Gwen’s move was putting him on uncertain ground made him feel even more off-kilter.

Merlin moved around the kitchen, putting used glasses into the dishwasher and gathering empty beer bottles into garbage bags. In the living room, people were still talking, their indistinct chatter a comforting background to his chores. 

He heard Arthur moments before he felt a hand at his back, steady and grounding. 

“How are you?” Arthur asked and Merlin couldn’t deal with that question. 

“I’m alright,” he said, automatically. 

Arthur hummed and started rubbing circles on his back. 

“Are you leaving with Morgana?” Merlin asked, not looking at him. “Tonight, I mean.”

“No, I’ll stay.”

The words made Merlin’s breath hitch even though it didn’t mean _that_. Just tonight, he was staying. Elena appeared in the doorway to the kitchen, but Arthur didn’t remove his hand. If she noticed, she didn’t let on. Instead, she just sat down at the kitchen table and leaned her head on her hand. 

“El,” Merlin said, and faltered. He cleared his throat and stopped what he was doing. “El, I’m not going to London. I’ve never wanted that, for me. I don’t like living in the city and I love the cottage and my mum is here, I—”

“Shh, Merlin,” she said, her eyes watery. “It’s ok, you don’t need to. I didn’t mean to pressure you. I just want you to be happy, wherever that is and whatever you do.” 

“I’ll visit you guys. Over summer. And there’s the group chat and all that.”

“Of course, Merlin. And we can come here too, if you have time to host us.”

He smiled, grateful for the thought, but he also knew that when they all returned to normal, all these plans fell apart. It was just how it was. “We should have coffee one day.” “We should go on a weekend trip sometime.” It was just too easy to put it off and then another year had passed, all too quickly. He glanced at Arthur, biting his lip. 

That was just how it was. He lived in Ealdor and he’d never be happy living in London, even if the rest of his friends were. And he still had Will and Freya. 

Elena rose from the table, pulled his face between her hands and pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Love you a lot, Merlin.”

“Love you too, El.” He pulled her into a hug. 

“Come say goodbye,” she said, pulling him into the living room, Arthur following behind. 

The rest were getting ready to leave. They had a long day ahead of them tomorrow, packing up everything at the festival before everyone was set to leave. Gwaine gave him a wet kiss on the cheek and told him to come to New York whenever he wanted, just in case they didn’t have a chance to talk tomorrow. He’d show him all the worst places, which Merlin really did not doubt. Mithian’s warm, lingering hug was a contrast to Morgana’s swift but firm embrace. Elena hugged him longest of all, and he kind of hated how he could feel the guilt rolling off of her. 

“I’m staying behind,” Arthur said when Morgana looked at him questioningly, and her very pointedly arched eyebrow spoke volumes. 

The cottage fell silent as everyone took their chatter with them, door falling closed on Gwaine’s loud laugh. Merlin picked up a few more bottles and an empty bowl and headed back into the kitchen, Arthur following behind. 

He was struck by how used he’d become to seeing Arthur here, in the cottage. To wake up next to him in bed, to see him walking around the kitchen as if it was his own, to find him stretched out on the sofa. It seemed impossible that it had only been a few short days, really, that Arthur had been here, with him. 

“So, you’re leaving tomorrow.”

“Yes.” Arthur gave him a quick glance before turning his attention to the bowl he was rinsing in the sink. “And you’re staying here.”

“Yes.”

The silence stretched. Merlin supposed there wasn’t much more to say, all things considered. Arthur was leaving, Merlin was staying. And that was that. There was perhaps just one more thing he felt he should say. “I’ve had a nice time, these past few days. With you.”

Arthur smiled. “Me too, Merlin. With you.”

They continued cleaning up in amicable silence until Merlin pulled Arthur up the stairs with him, stopping to kiss him insistently a couple of times before they made it up to the bedroom. 

Merlin tried to stay in the moment as they tangled together on the bed, unwilling to stop touching each other. They kissed lazily, letting their hands roam, stretching out the moment between them. The kisses deepened and their touches became more deliberate. Merlin arched up into it.

Arthur fucked him like that; pressing Merlin into the bed, Merlin’s hands gripping his back, their faces buried into the crook of each other’s necks. Arthur’s breath was hot against his skin, and the weight of him made Merlin feel consumed, enveloped. He tightened his arms around Arthur, holding on as his heart beat hard and his breath came out in shuddering gasps. 

When he came, Arthur kissed him roughly, muffling the uncontrollable sounds from his throat. Merlin held on, eventually finding enough wherewithal to move his lips in answer. 

*

Merlin slipped a note of book recommendations into Arthur’s discarded jeans before Arthur woke in the morning. 

They ate breakfast together by the kitchen table like they had every morning for days. 

When they got bundled into their winter coats and tied their scarves around their necks to head out into the snowy morning, they moved in an odd synergy, helping each other find discarded hats and gloves. 

As Arthur stepped out of the cottage, Merlin stopped him with a hand around his wrist. Arthur turned, questioning, and Merlin leaned close, holding his gaze. They met in a soft, lingering kiss tasting of bittersweet goodbyes. 

*

Ealdor always looked particularly dull when the festival was over. It was a bit like coming out of Narnia and realising you were just back in the same old room. While most of the decorations remained, the streets were quiet and there were no busloads of tourists arriving at every hour of the day, no groups of people pouring in and out of the maze and no delighted screams from the ice rink. Instead, the shoppers ambled slowly through the street, popping in and out of stores. 

Merlin, as usual, had shopping still left to do mere days before Christmas. He didn’t have much time to actually do his shopping before the festival, so it always had to be done in a hurry in the days after. At the very least, it left him with something to do when he was in a bit of a funk after everyone had gone. 

He’d picked up some baking supplies for his mum and headed into the bookstore to pick up something for Gaius. The bell tinkled above the door and it was comfortably toasty inside. The bookstore was his favourite store in town and he immediately just wanted to find the furthest corner and stay there, surrounded by books. 

He ran into Gwen among the aisles. 

“Hi,” she whispered, pulling him into a hug. 

“Why are we whispering?” he whispered back.

“There’s just something about books that feels like it has to be done.”

“You’re thinking about libraries.”

“No, it goes for bookshops too. Have you ever heard anyone speak loudly at a bookshop? Even if you walk in together, you drift apart and browse in silence. It’s just how it’s done.”

He huffed a quiet laugh. “How’s Morgana? Did she make It home alright?”

“She’s great. She says hi.” Gwen looked pleased, her cheeks a little pink. “Arthur made it back OK too.”

“Oh, good.” It suddenly felt weird to try to shape his mouth around the syllable. “Good, good.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to talk about it?”

“Extremely sure,” he said. “It’s not important.”

She didn’t look convinced. “If that’s what you want. But if you ever do want to, I’m here for you, you know that, right?”

“You’re dating his sister.”

“That doesn’t matter.” She grabbed his arm, grip forceful. “You listen, alright? Anything you say to me about it stays between us.” 

He just nodded, not sure what else to say. It was a moot point anyway, since he had no need to talk about it. 

“Have you found a place to stay in London?” he asked instead. 

“I’m going to stay with Elyan for a bit, until I find a place to rent. Morgana said I could stay with her, but it seems just a tiny bit soon, you know.”

“What, you mean you’re not ready to move in after two weeks? Coward!” 

“Oh god, stop.” She laughed. “When do you want us over on Thursday?” 

“We’re aiming to have dinner ready at six, so maybe half five?”

“Great, we’ll see you then! Tell Hunith it’s so nice of her to have us over.”

“You know she loves it. If I invited the entire town, she would just, like, expand the kitchen.”

Gwen laughed, curls bouncing on her shoulders. “Well, I can’t wait for the famous Hunith feast.”

He wanted to say he couldn’t wait for it either, but part of him dreaded it: this ending to their friendship as he knew it. 

*

The house was quiet. Even when he put the radio on in the kitchen to drown out the silence, it was just quiet in a different way. He sipped his coffee and picked up his book, sitting down at the kitchen table. It only held his attention for a few minutes and then his thoughts were escaping in a million other directions. 

He put the book down and sighed, dragging his hand through his hair. This was his own home. He’d lived in it alone since he bought it. This was _stupid_. He bit his lip and looked down at his phone. Opening it, he clicked to find the name he was looking for. 

“Hey, Mum, can I come over?”

*

“Did someone force you to buy a whole bakery?” He asked, disbelieving. 

His mum looked up, her expression almost guilty. She was standing in the kitchen surrounded by pies on every available counter surface. 

“Well, I was baking for Carolyn and then I was suddenly baking for Emmy, and here we are.” She held out her arms, looking sheepish. “I’ve lost count.” 

“Do you at least have a piece to spare?”

Hunith turned around and picked up two plates with perfect pieces of pie. “What do you take me for?”

Merlin sat down at her kitchen table as she set the pie down in front of him, and he watched her flitting around, taking out another pie from the oven. So many of his childhood memories were of his mum in the kitchen, surrounded by a chaos of baked goods. 

“Gwen says thanks for inviting them over for Christmas Eve,” Merlin said, dipping his fork into the perfect little tip at the end of his slice. 

“Tell Gwen she needs to stop being silly.”

“Already did.”

“How have things been at the festival this year?” she asked. “You’ve been so busy this time around.”

“It was great. The wreaths were a hit, as usual.”

“I’m glad! Did you sell all the cards?”

She sat down at the opposite side of the table, adjusting the bun at the top of her head. 

“Yeah, I did, actually, and I made more this year than last, so I’m happy about that.” He savoured the next bite of pie, closing his eyes for a moment. “Everyone asked me to tell you goodbye and that they’ll hopefully see more of you next year.”

“I heard there were more newcomers this year?”

“Yeah, a few. Arthur and Morgana came in from London for the first time.” Merlin swallowed around a lump in his throat. “Gwen’s moving.”

His mum looked up in surprise, her cake fork hovering above her piece of pie. “Moving?”

“To London.” He swallowed, tongue still numb. “She and Morgana hit it off and they’re dating now. And Gwen had already been talking about leaving.”

“Because of Lance?”

“Not so much because of Lance, but she felt the need to go somewhere else and start something new, I think.”

Hunith put her fork down and placed her hand over his, her touch warm and soft and familiar. “Are you alright, sweetheart?”

He grimaced. “I will be? It’s just a lot of change. In a year.” Last Christmas he’d spent most of it at Gwen and Lance’s, just like he had for the past five years. It seemed almost impossible that so much could happen just from one Christmas to the next. 

“You know I’ll be fine, right?” she said, thumb brushing over his skin. “If you want to leave, I—” 

“Mum, I’m not moving.” 

“But if you want to—”

“I don’t.” He turned his hand over, palm up, and held her hand. “I really don’t. Ealdor is home for me.”

She smiled, her eyes a bit shiny. “If you’re sure.”

“I’m sure.” 

“I’m very happy Will and Freya are still here,” she said, squeezing his hand before letting go. “It would be lonely without them.” 

“Yes, it would be. I haven’t even dared to ask if they’re planning to leave. I don’t even want to tempt the universe.”

She laughed, but she kept sending him worried glances and he hated that. His phone buzzed and he picked it out of his pocket to find texts from Gwaine. 

_back in the city  
miss you sweetcheeks  
text me whenever  
also here’s a picture I took_

Merlin lowered the fork, gripping the phone with both hands. His heart galloped uncomfortably. The picture was him and Arthur on the ice rink, holding onto each other. Arthur’s head was half thrown back in laughter, while Merlin was leaning into him, laughter also bright on his face. 

He couldn’t even breathe. 

“Merlin?” his mum asked, voice uncertain. 

He jammed his phone back into his pockets, heart still racing. “Yeah, sorry. Gwaine just texted. He’s made it home safe.”

“That’s good,” she said, unconvinced. “More pie?”

*

Merlin sat on the stool in his studio, looking at the finished painting on the easel. Outside, it was dark, but the light inside was fixed on the painting. The one he’d painted with Arthur in mind, somehow convincing himself that it wasn’t the case. The one he’d wanted to give him for Christmas outside of the Secret Santa exchange just because he wanted to give Arthur something—something meaningful. But it was too revealing. It was too much of himself on a canvas, all him in the swirl of blues, and the vague outline of two people embracing. 

He peered down at the picture on his phone. He still hadn’t managed to force himself to put it away, even though looking at it made his world tilt. 

When he’d told Gwen there were no feelings involved, he’d been sincere. That’s what he’d thought was the case, or maybe he just couldn’t bear the thought of it being complicated. But he was so wrong, so laughably wrong, and it seemed so stupid not to see it. It was staring him in the face from every angle. From the picture, from the painting, from the hollow spot in his chest that refused to leave. 

He hid his face in his hands. This was an unmitigated disaster. A total fucking catastrophe. 

After Mordred, he’d been so out of touch with that part of himself. The betrayal had been so all-encompassing that he’d buried anything that even remotely resembled the feelings he’d had for Mordred as soon as it surfaced. Maybe he’d forgotten what it felt like. Maybe he’d just been too scared to face those feelings, subconsciously protecting himself. 

They were there, though. So painfully there. 

And there was nothing he could do about it, because Arthur was there and he was here, and that’s what they had agreed. That was the final word. 

*

His hands were shaking when he knocked on the door while burying his chin into his scarf. The door swung open and Gwen looked at him, eyes wide, her hair coming loose from her messy bun. “Merlin?”

“Can we talk?” He forced himself to ask. 

“Of course!” She stepped aside. “Come in, it’s freezing out.”

As he hung up his coat and scarf and toed off his boots, she talked about an exchange she’d had with Sophia at the café and he couldn’t quite process it, but the sound of her voice was comforting. He let her lead him into the living room and more or less pushed him into a chair. 

“I’ll get you a cup of tea. Or would you rather have coffee?”

“Maybe tea, since it’s late. Thank you.”

“Good plan. Peppermint ok?”

He curled up in the chair in front of the fire, looking over at the Christmas tree in the corner. Ornaments shone in the light of the fire. Unlike his mess of different ornaments, Gwen’s were colour coded in purple, red and gold, but not obnoxiously so. 

“Here you go,” she said as she returned, holding out a cup of tea for him. It had a snowman on the front. “You can tell me anything, you know.”

“I caught feelings,” he said, staring into the fire. “I guess, at some point. I just didn’t really notice until it was too late, and I know it wasn’t like that. It was nice, but it wasn’t a relationship or anything.”

“Did you talk about it?”

“Sort of,” he said, shrugging and looking over at her. “We agreed that he lives in London and I live here, and since that’s the case, there’s not much else to talk about.”

“Did you ask him what he’s feeling, though?”

“No, I didn’t even ask myself what I was feeling. But it wasn’t dating, you know? We didn’t talk about the future or go out on dates, or anything.” Merlin ran a hand through his hair, resting it at the back of his head. “If I hadn’t been stupid enough to develop feelings, it would’ve just been a nice time.”

“I’m sorry,” she said. She sat turned towards him, feet pulled up into the chair. “That’s a shitty situation.”

“I just needed to tell someone. Say it out loud to someone, I guess.” He sipped at the tea without really tasting it.

Gwen sat in silence for a moment, pressing her lips together. “I don’t mean to insert myself into this, but maybe you should tell him how you feel. Maybe it changes things.”

Dread stabbed him in the gut at the very thought. He couldn’t handle the humiliation of that. Of being the one who let an innocent _thing_ turn into a mess of feelings and expectations and hopes. And then having to tell Arthur, who would then feel obligated to talk about it and let him down gently. He wanted to puke. 

“Ok, I can tell that’s not a good suggestion. Sorry. I don’t know if I would’ve been able to do that either.”

“Gwen, I just… How do I get myself into these things every time? It’s like I don’t even learn.” He dropped his head back against the back of the chair, closing his eyes. 

“We all get ourselves into these things. You can’t logic yourself out of having feelings and you can’t berate yourself for reaching that point either. It’s a natural consequence of being with someone.”

“I just need to…” He sighed. “I just need to say it out loud, accept it and then get over it. That’s all I can do, right?”

“If you don’t want to tell him, then, yes. I think so.”

Merlin’s lips pulled into a resigned smile and he rested his cheek against the back of the chair as he met her eyes. 

“I’m going to miss you a lot, you know.”

Gwen gave a watery smile in return. “I’m going to miss you a lot too.”

*

On Christmas Eve, Merlin walked up through his mum’s garden early in the afternoon carrying a Christmas pudding and a bag full of ingredients for Christmas cocktails. He tapped his shoes free of snow before he pulled the door open and headed inside into the warm comfort of his mum’s house. 

“Hi, Mum!” he called from the hallway as he pulled off his coat. 

“Hi, love!”

He headed into the kitchen with his supplies where his mum was cooking up her regular Christmas feast. The turkey was in the oven and she had a pot on every available cooker. She even had an extra cooking plate for additional space. She kissed him on the cheek before returning to stirring one of the pots. 

“It smells amazing,” he said, walked past her and put his bag on the table. He pulled out the ingredients for the Christmas sangria. 

“Oh, Christmas pudding,” she said, delighted, as he opened the cake tin he’d brought. “You are a dear.” 

“Couldn’t let you make _everything_ yourself, could I?”

They worked around each other in the kitchen while listening to Christmas music, trying to one-up each other in singing along with the most over the top renditions. A warm feeling settled in his chest and he thought, maybe, he’d be alright. No matter what else, he had this. He had Ealdor and his mum and himself. It would all be fine. 

At half five, Gwen and Elyan showed up, their happy greetings ringing from the hallway. 

“Merry Christmas!” Gwen said when they stepped into the kitchen. She had a bright red dress on and her hair piled up into a little up-do. 

“Merry Christmas!” they replied, nearly in unison, and Merlin handed them each a sangria. 

“Hunith, this smells unbelievable,” Elyan said. 

“Thank you, dear!” 

“I brought mince pies,” Gwen said, passing them on to Hunith. “For later, when we’re not so full of turkey that we can’t move.” 

“And I forgot about the mince pies and made a Christmas pudding, so at least we’ll be eating enough today.” 

“Isn’t that how it always goes?” Elyan said, grinning. “I promise I’ll do my part.” 

“Can we help with anything?” Gwen asked.

“Maybe you can help set the table? I put everything we need over there, in the box by the fridge. Merlin, you too?”

The three of them worked to set the table in a little Christmas themed display. The plates were a dark red with gold details along the edge and they used the nice wine glasses for the occasion. Decorative stars and little Christmas trees were scattered around lit candles. Soon, the turkey was finished and carved and all parts of the feast were served. 

They sat down together, toasting their Christmas sangria, and the chatter flowed easily as they began to eat. Peace settled in the warm cocoon of his mother’s kitchen, and Merlin sank into the warm glow of sharing a meal with these people who mattered so much. He smiled at nothing in particular, hiding it behind his glass, Gwen and his mum discussing an article they’d read in the local newspaper last week. 

When the doorbell rang, they all jumped, pulled out of their little bubble. They looked at each other, confused. 

“I’ll go see who it is,” Hunith said, leaving her napkin on the side of the table as she rose. 

“Who’s out ringing doorbells on Christmas Eve?” Gwen asked. 

“No idea.”

“Let’s hope it’s nothing bad,” Elyan said, brows furrowed. 

A moment later, Hunith returned. “There’s a young man asking for you, Merlin.” She sat down across from him and gave him a long look, mouth slightly upturned. 

He put his glass down, confused. “For me?” Sharing a brief glance with Gwen, he rose from the table.

In the dim light of the hallway, Merlin froze in place, his heart speeding up when he caught a familiar gaze. 

“Oh my god.” 

“Hi,” Arthur said, voice wavering slightly. “Merry Christmas.”

“Wha—how are you—?”

“I’m sorry for just showing up here.” Arthur shoved his hands into his pockets, looking down at nothing in particular. “I remembered you’d be here today, and I—Merlin, I know what we said, that—”

“That you’re there and I’m here,” Merlin said, protectively holding his arms over his chest. 

“Yes.” Arthur had his head turned away, and then he suddenly looked straight into Merlin’s eyes, his expression open and vulnerable. “What if I were here?”

“What?”

“Please don’t make me repeat it.”

“You want to be here?”

“Yes. If that’s something you want.”

Merlin’s pulse was racing so fast he felt lightheaded. “Like, forever?” 

“I was thinking maybe we could start with _indefinitely_ and see where it goes from there.” Smiling nervously, Arthur gave a little shrug, his shoulders a bit hunched, hands still buried deep in his pockets. 

His heart bursting, Merlin ran forwards and pulled Arthur against him, hugging him close. He tucked his face into Arthur’s neck, sank against him and let Arthur hold him up. He closed his eyes and inhaled, his lips pulling into a smile that was so fierce it hurt the muscles in his cheeks. 

“Alright,” he said, pulling back a bit until he could see Arthur’s face. “You’re going to have to spell this out for me, because I don’t want to humiliate myself completely. By _being here_ you don’t just mean taking a vacancy at the school, right?”

Arthur shook with barely contained laughter. “No, Merlin, that wasn’t my primary goal.”

“Arthur,” he said, and he sounded so close to begging that his cheeks flushed. 

“You’re really making me do all the work here.” Arthur squeezed him tighter for a moment. “I want to be with you. Here. Together.” He placed a hand against Merlin’s cheek, brushed his thumb over his cheekbone. “Spelled out enough for you?”

Merlin leaned in and kissed him, soft but insistent. When Arthur pulled back, he chased it, and Arthur laughed against his lips. 

“I think I might need for you to spell things out for _me_ ,” Arthur said. “Things are just a little unclear, you know.”

“I want you to stay here with me,” Merlin said against his lips and claimed them, breaking out in goosebumps as Arthur’s mouth moved under his. 

When they pulled apart, Merlin circled Arthur’s wrist with his hand. “Come have dinner with us?” 

Arthur finally took his jacket and shoes off and followed Merlin into the kitchen where the other three were extremely engrossed in conversation. They looked up, faces all innocence, when Merlin cleared his throat. 

“Mum, do we have an extra plate so Arthur can join us?”

“Of course,” she said, jumping up from her seat. “Here, please sit.”

“Oh, no, I couldn’t poss—” He was cut off by Hunith manhandling him into her seat before finding herself another chair to put at the end of the table. 

Merlin met Gwen’s eyes as he sat down across from Arthur, and she beamed at him, her smile blinding. Hunith returned with a plate and cutlery, looking at them with surprised delight.

“You’re very welcome, Arthur,” she said. “I’m Hunith, and I’m sure Merlin has told you as little about me as he’s told me about you.” 

“Mum.”

“What?” She said innocently. “I’m merely pointing out that more information could have been exchanged.”

“Nice to meet you, Hunith.”

As amicable chatter once again descended upon them, Merlin met Arthur’s eyes across the table and smiled.

*

They walked hand in hand up the walkway to the cottage. Snow had piled onto the roof, glittering under the soft moonlight, and they had snow up to their ankles when they trekked up to the front steps. Inside, it was chilly since he hadn’t put the fire on earlier in the morning. Since it was late, they just left it and headed upstairs to the bedroom. 

“Did you really come here without even a single change of clothes?” Merlin asked as he leaned back onto the bed, Arthur climbing on after him. 

“Don’t tell Gwen, but Morgana is coming tomorrow to surprise her. She’s bringing my things.”

Merlin looked up into his face, overcome with the knowledge that he was here, that he wanted to be here. He ran his hands up along Arthur’s sides.

“We might’ve done this in the wrong order, but I feel like you should know that I have feelings for you, Arthur Pendragon. Maybe we should date.”

Arthur buried his face into Merlin’s neck and hummed, linking their hands together above Merlin’s head. “Does breakfast count?”

*

“Close your eyes,” Merlin said, leading Arthur by the hand towards his studio. “No peeking, ok? This is really hard to wrap so this hinges entirely on your ability to be honest.”

“So you want me to just trust you? Bold of you.” Arthur held his free hand over his eyes, though, allowing Merlin to pull him through the door. His toe snagged on the doorstep and Merlin muffled a laugh at the stumble. 

He moved behind Arthur and set his hands on his hips, moving him right in front of the painting. 

“Before you open your eyes,” Merlin said, coming up next to him, his hand still on the small of Arthur’s back. “I just want to say that I wanted to give you this before you left, but I got scared. And I didn’t. But it was always yours.”

“Can I?” 

“Yes.”

Arthur dropped his arm and opened his eyes, gaze immediately finding the painting on the easel. He reached for Merlin’s hand, fingers closing over his. “Holy fuck, Merlin.” Moving closer, his eyes remained locked on it, studying each part of it up close. 

He should just let Arthur process in peace, but his stomach rolled with nerves. “Please say something before I puke.” Merlin squeezed his hand.

“It’s really beautiful,” Arthur said, quietly. “Thank you.” He pulled Merlin into a hug, brushing his lips against Merlin’s cheek. “I may have planned a gift for you too, but I wasn’t sure if you’d want it.” 

“That sounds ominous.” 

Arthur dug a hand into the pocket of his jeans and pulled out a piece of paper, folded in half and slightly creased. “For you.” 

Merlin took it, his hands shaking slightly, and he opened it, not sure what he was looking at. On the paper were pictures of three different buildings in Ealdor with brief descriptions of each. He looked up, uncertain. 

“They’re options for properties that would work for a gallery or a store, or a combination of both. I’ve researched all of them and I’ve made a plan for how you can start it, if you’d like.”

“Arthur—”

“I want this for you,” Arthur said, swallowing. “I want to help you with this. If you want it.”

Merlin felt his throat close up and his eyes sting. “I want it,” he said, voice low. He wanted the gallery, the store, the business. He wanted to trust that Arthur would do this with him. He wanted to kiss Arthur good morning before he left to go to his own gallery space. He wanted to let Arthur help him. 

Merlin took Arthur’s hand in his, entwining their fingers. 

“I want it.”


End file.
